<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Starry sky by Oxyte</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23020414">Starry sky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oxyte/pseuds/Oxyte'>Oxyte</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stary sky [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Angst, Azkaban, Blood and Gore, Bottom Harry, Dark Harry, F/M, M/M, Mild Smut, Sane Tom Riddle, Torture, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, alternative universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:01:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23020414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oxyte/pseuds/Oxyte</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts with Chamber of Secrets. Harry Potter gets thrown into Azkaban and Voldemort is very much alive.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stary sky [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>375</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. What happens in Chamber, stays in Chambers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okey. this story is all written and finished, but in polish. I wanted to get better at my english and so I begin to translate my work. and I have to warn you - I make mistakes,like a lot, cause english is not my first language and I suck at grammar, as u can see. if anyone wants and have time, you can point them to me (i often get confused, like is  "perch" a thing, lol, i've never heard of it and "pole" seemed wrong... Internet suggested "porch" so I went with it)<br/>I just hope u have fun while reading this story, I think it is quite good (in polish, I can't say anything about english, cause I have to use defferent constructions and it all is different... so fucking different). anyone here knows both polish and english? i wouldn't mind some help, heh. I just wanted more people to know this story, u know, "Starry sky" is my baby, first baby and I may love it too much.<br/>so have fun~!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My name is Harry Potter.</p><p>
  <em> I know, and hello. </em>
</p><p>…</p><p>Won’t you introduce yourself?</p><p>
  <em> I’m not as interesting as you, my… name doesn’t mean as much as yours. </em>
</p><p>All men are equal! We have the same rights and… and I really don’t understand why the fact that I made Voldemort disappear as little child makes me somewhat better than you.</p><p>
  <em> It does not, definitely it does not, Harry. You’re… peculiar child. </em>
</p><p>I’m Harry. Just Harry.</p><p>
  <em> And that’s what makes you special. </em>
</p><p>So what’s your name?</p><p>
  <em> Tom. Disgustingly common. </em>
</p><p>My name’s popular, too, but I like it a lot. It’s cool and short.</p><p>
  <em> Muggle. </em>
</p><p>And that’s what makes it cool!</p><p>
  <em> Oh, so have you met any “cool” muggles? </em>
</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em> I thought so. They’re egoistic creatures who didn’t get honor to have magic.  Useless, only thing they can do is to stand in my way. </em>
</p><p>They’re not! They’re human, too!</p><p>
  <em> But so much worse than us, full of morbid jealousy and countless disadvantages.  </em>
</p><p>I was raised by muggles, my uncle and aunt, and maybe they weren’t the nicest people… sometimes they were shouting at me and giving a lot of penalties, and didn’t like magic, but they had love in them. Maybe not for me, but they sure loved their son!</p><p>
  <em> Are you defending them? </em>
</p><p>Yes.</p><p>
  <em> Do you find them worthy your defence? </em>
</p><p>...no.</p><p>
  <em> End of discussion. Think about it, Harry, my little wizard.  </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>Good morning, Tom.</p><p>
  <em> Politely, with culture? So you do have some manners. </em>
</p><p>Hermione’s talking about strange french word.</p><p>
  <em> Savoir-vivre I assume? Hermione? </em>
</p><p>My friend. Her parents are muggle, and she  has the best grades of all Hogwarts’ students! It denies your words about worthless muggles.</p><p>
  <em> She’s a witch, not a dirty muggle. </em>
</p><p>Don’t call them that!</p><p>
  <em> I’ll stop… if you tell me one thing. How did you come in the possession of my dairy? </em>
</p><p>Oh, it was thrown away, I mean someone had thrown it away in the ladies bathroom, the Moaning Myrtle’s one. </p><p>
  <em> Moaning Myrtle, you say? Tell me more. </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>Em… hi?</p><p>
  <em> Oh, you again? </em>
</p><p>Yes. I want to ask you about something, Tom.</p><p>
  <em> Go on.  </em>
</p><p>Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?</p><p>
  <em> Quite a lot. </em>
</p><p>So… can you tell me about it?</p><p>
  <em> You’re such a kind child.  </em>
</p><p>Why do you think that?</p><p>
  <em> You ask. </em>
</p><p>I don’t understand.</p><p>
  <em> I know you don’t.  </em>
</p><p>You speak in riddles… Why do I have a feeling that you're laughing at me?</p><p>
  <em> Maybe ‘cause you’re such a charming child? You tell me, Harry, the wizard, who defeated the Dark Lord.  </em>
</p><p>So… The Chamber? Are you going to tell me about it?</p><p>
  <em> And what do I get in return? </em>
</p><p>My gratitude.</p><p>
  <em> What about a compromise? Do you want me to take you to the Chamber? </em>
</p><p>Yeah.</p><p>
  <em> Leave the diary in the common room and wait for me on the first floor. </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>Blood runs down the stone walls, which are all soaked in it. It isn’t an old, dried blood, but a fresh one, hot and scarlet. It isn’t a stream too; a trickle that runs slowly and drips with drops. No, it’s a real flood of bland blood which carries scent of rotting and iron; all ocean of red, liters of blood. It runs slowly down the walls into the floor, where it gathers into puddle and then pours all over the room. </p><p>The limp body of Ginny that lies at the feet of Salazar’s statue is drowning in the basilisk’s blood; her fiery hair is melting with the blood into one. Her pale lips are half open — like she was begging for oxygen. </p><p>In this masquerade it is Harry who takes a lead, kneeling without any strength left, leaning heavily against sword of Gryffindor. White  laces of his sneakers are red, silver blade of the weapon is red too, Harry’s shirt has blood all over it, and finally blood flows from the wound at his shoulder, where basilisk’s fang is stuck in. </p><p>Harry can’t focus because of a moisture — he can only smell blood, mustiness, sweat and salty tears that make his eyes itchy. He couldn't save Ginny and now they’re both going to die here — forgotten in darkness — killed by Tom, who actually is looking at Harry with found expression. The man brushes away boy’s dark hair and draws the shape of the forehead scar, smearing the blood. He does it with a look of a man, who admires a rare object in the museum.</p><p>“Let's make a deal, my little wizard,” Tom says almost with tenderness. The whisper sounds soft and gentle. Harry lifts his eyes and looks at Tom’s handsome appearance: soft hair and pink lips. It is still hard to believe that this friendly looking boy is a young Voldemort. It just doesn’t go together, seems so wrong. “I’ll spare your life, even your little friend’s, but in return,” Tom gets closer and whispers in Harry’s ear: “you give me some of your blood."</p><p>Harry doesn't respond at first, he calculates what he had heard, even if he knows his response from the beginning. Nothing is more important than his friends. </p><p>He was surprised, when he saw pale Ginny with big shadows under her eyes, standing alone at the corridor. She said simply that Tom is waiting in the Chamber of Secrets and she led Harry through the passage in the bathroom to the Salazar’s monster’s hideout. Which monster now lies torn to shreds after Tom made him blow up splashing blood and entrails. It doesn't make any sense to Harry, for Tom to destroy monster’s corpse like that, after all it was already dead. </p><p>“Some of your blood and she…” Tom points at Ginny, who is much paler than before, her chest rises slowly and irregularly. “...will live.”</p><p>Harry doesn’t think anymore, he just nods. Tom takes out of his robe’s pocket a glass vial and then pulls out, slowly and painful, a fang from Harry’s arm to collect some fresh blood from the wound.</p><p>“What about the venom?” Harry suddenly remembers about the poison in his veins. Why does Voldemort need poisoned blood?</p><p>“Will only strengthen the effect”.</p><p>Tiny vial is half full, when Tom finally takes it away and watches with satisfaction how the liquid that shimmers with scarlet sparks in the dim light.</p><p>After there is only deaf darkness and the taste of vomit, and when Harry wakes up, the basilisk’s corpse stinks even more. Tom is collecting fangs and putting them into the leather bag, thoroughly, so he doesn’t miss any. </p><p>Harry tries to say something, but his throat is dry, and only sound that comes out is shriek. But it makes Voldemort to look at Harry, and his now red eyes shimmers with mockery. He looks different: his skin became as pale as a wax,  hair has gotten darker, cheekbones more prominent and cheeks hollow. He mesmerizes with power and takes the breath away with beauty, when he comes closer to Harry and says:</p><p>“You’re healthy. The bird was dead so I had to use different method, forgive the unpleasant taste,” He smiles wryly and straightens up.</p><p>“Ginny!” Harry grunts, when he sees that Tom wants to leave. “Where is she?”</p><p>“Over there.” Tom points at the girl’s dead body. </p><p>Harry stands up with the  little strength that he has left and runs to Voldemort. It can’t be true! Ginny couldn’t…!</p><p>“You said you would save her!” Harry screams shocked by treason and throws himself at Tom. Voldemort stops him without any effort and takes Harry’s cheeks with both hands, which are ice cold. </p><p>“I lied.” A whisper pours through his lips and blows on Harry’s dry lips, making him shudder. </p><p>“B-b-but...” </p><p>“And remember, my little, brave wizard… no one can know about what had happened here. And no one will, right? Because your memories…“ Tom pokes Harry with his wand ”...will be false.”</p><p>***</p><p>“Let’s summarize, Harry, my dear boy. You say that Miss  Weasley was possesed by Lord Voldemort himself and that it was him who attacked students with her help. And the source of his power was the diary that you destroyed.” Dumbledore lifts what had left from notebook with big black hole in the middle after Harry stabbed it with basilisk’s fang. Blackened leather around the edges is covered in green slime. “Destroying the diary killed Tom Riddle’s soul. And we have two mortal victims: Miss Weasley and the basilisk."</p><p>Harry sits there quietly. He doesn’t have the courage to look headmaster in the eyes and tell about the dead phoenix. Instead he is looking at the portraits and mystery equipment in the gabinet. Metronome taps a silent rhythm, pendulum falls sluggishly, making the characteristic sound. </p><p>“The fundamental question  remains for us… How did it all start?” The look of blue eyes petrifies Harry and forces him to answer. It’s like his mouth was moving on its own, formulated sounds and from them —  words. </p><p>“So… in the bathroom, this abandoned one, where Moaning Myrtle likes to haunt, I’ve found there a diary, so I fought that I should check what it is and why some have thrown it away."</p><p>Harry tells the whole story with all the details  he remembers. He remembers poor, little Ginny who looked like a human wreck with pale, unhealthy skin and dark shadows under her eyes. He doesn’t know, when he starts crying, but when he tells about Ron’s sister’s death, his throat is tight and hurts, and his eyes are dry and they sting after too many sheds tears. </p><p>“And then, by some miracle, the Gryffindor’s sword appeared in my hand and I’ve killed the basilisk, what really pissed Voldmort off, because he had blown the corpse… It was pure fury.”</p><p>Dumbledore looks like that specific information was of incredible importance, when he tilts his head to the side and strokes his bread gently.</p><p>“The fangs has scattered all across the floor, and, I don’t know why, but I just took one of them and stabbed the diary. Pure instinct. Voldemort’s body started to crumble like something was eating it, a light. And it worked as it was acid.” Harry stops for a moment, because he doesn't like the next fragment of the story. “Then… I guess I’d lost my consciousness, ‘cause the next thing I remember is you, professor. I don’t know how I have gotten out of there.”</p><p>Headmaster of Hogwarts frowns and then he looks at the empty Faweks’ perch —  it is the look of a tired man, who dreams about the rest, but mistakes from the past doesn’t let him. </p><p>“I know this my be hard for you,” Dumbledore doesn’t look in Harry’s eyes and Harry is glad “but we must go down there. You have to show me the passage and open it. I’m sure Mr and Mrs Weasley would like to bury their daughter properly.”</p><p>Dreadful cold tooks Harry’s ability to feel in his fingers, and Harry feels nervous. He doesn’t know why. It’s not like he didn’t see the body… did he? He has to bring Ginny back. He couldn’t save her, couldn’t save his best friend’s beloved sister, so he owe him at least this —  bring her body. But only thinking about it makes his blood run cold. What if Dumbledore will see the body and think that it’s Harry’s fault?</p><p>Tightness in his chest becomes more painful, overwhelming fear eliminates the ability to breathe. Harry clenches his fists; badly trimmed nails dig into sensitive skin.</p><p>On the way to the Chamber of Secrets in Harry’s chest awakes a monster, who injures his intestines with sharp claws and barbed tongue covered in venom. Harry feels like downstairs there is something wrong. He avoids looking at headmaster, scared of… he doesn’t know of what exactly. He just is. Scared. Irrationally scared.</p><p>There’s no Ginny’s body down there. Just skeleton  with single hair attached to bald skull. The jaw is open, like she was screaming in agony while dying, but… Harry doesn’t remember that. </p><p>What’s wrong?</p><p>Dumbledore looks like the pieces of puzzle finally snapped into place, but Harry is confused and he wants to scream. Why?! What happened?</p><p>Stone walls aren’t covered in blood like Harry remembers. Only proof of Harry’s version of story is Harry himself —  soaked in blood. </p><p>“Professor…?” His voice is quiet and screechy, full of uncertainty and fear. </p><p>“It seems, my boy, that Voldemort changed your memory. And most likely… feels fine. And I fear, we don’t find out the truth unless he tell us himself."</p><p>Then Harry has to face Ron’s disappointment, Weasley’s despair, Fred and George’s smileless  faces and Hermione’s sadness.</p><p>The funeral is bleak. Harry stands aside, he cannot make himself cry; he just feels so guilty that he didn’t save her. He spends holidays by himself, sitting lonely at Privet Drive and star gaping, thinking about life without sadness. </p><p>***</p><p>Hanging trees, and on the thin branches are hanging fine, maroon cherries. Sun doesn’t intend to hide behind clouds this year to give farmers a moment to breathe, it is burning sadistically already burnt skin. </p><p>A narrow path in the wilderness, around there are only golden fields in which ripening grain rustles. Far away you can see a forest. Along  the paved path briskly walks Tom Marvolo Riddle wearing a black cape despite the heat. Nigini slides next to him sticking out her tongue to taste fresh air. Her scales are shimmering emerald green in the sunshine which lights behind upper branches of cherry tees. </p><p>“So what’s the plan? We’re gonna eat fat rats and then sunbathing? Maybe an attack? What d’ya think, Tom?”</p><p>“I prefer a chicken.”</p><p>“Compromise? I get to eat two rats, and you can have some chicken. But just one. You humans get fat so quickly.”</p><p>“I spoil you too much, stupid snake.” Voldemort stares at the horizon, at the trees of the forest which are closer with every step he takes. </p><p>Nagini doesn't say anything to that, too scared to angry her companion. But after few minutes her talkative character shows again, when she asks another question:</p><p>“Why didn’t you kill the boy?”</p><p>“It was unnecessary.”</p><p>“But Tooom…!” She gets silenced by chilling look of red eyes. Tom looks up at blue sky and sighs, before he answers:</p><p>“Someday I’ll make myself shoes of you, you’ll see.”</p><p>“Phi, I have an immunity, you wouldn’t dare.”</p><p>“I always can move the horcrux somewhere else. And I would like to inform you, if you forgot, my dear, that horcruxes are going to disappear. They are faulty. It’s humiliating to wander through decade without body, being unable to function like human. There has to be different way to be immortal. A one that is perfect and flawless. And if there isn’t one… I’ll make it myself.”</p><p>“So I was right, old Tom with a full soul was smarter.”</p><p>“Yes…” Voldemort looks at his hand with ring. “Since I merged the soul from dairy with other parts, I feel remarkably better. My thoughts are clear and I know what mistakes had made a part of my soul at the end of our life… It can’t happen again”</p><p>Voldemort clenches his hand. </p><p>“So when are we conquering the world?”</p><p>“First I have to take care of horcurxes, then immortality, finally bring Death Eaters to order, prepare a plan and…”</p><p>“Remember about a place to kill harry Potter. It’s a permanent repertuary.” Nagini hits her tail, raising the dust into air. </p><p>“Yes… my little, brave wizard… Poor orphan, misunderstood, but full of potential… At now he can’t thwart my plans... but if he gets to noisy, I’ll have to silence him.“ Tom sights and shakes off invisible pollen. </p><p>“To the manor? I’m starving.”</p><p>Snake speeds up joyfully. Tom looks up at the blue sky. </p><p>“I wonder if that fool, Dumbledore, has already realised…” Voldemort strokes the tiara set with sapphires who lied in the bag and goes after Nagini with dangerous sparkle in his eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Prelude to the nightmare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm honestly suprised and so happy that you don't mind my mistakes and enjoy story! It means a lot for me. Than you and I hope that you enjoy this one as much as the first one. I tried to make it sound like my style, but it is so hard in other language. So it may sound a bit... stiffy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You didn't save her. You didn't save her... you didn't save my little sister. She's dead because of you. It' your fault that she lies alone in the cold coffin being eaten by worms. Imagine the most disgusting worm that you ever seen and put it in her empty eye socket. Imagine how it creeps covered in slime, profaning her body... or what's left of it. Picture it. Do you see it clearly? <em>You</em> caused this tragedy.</p><p><br/>
And Harry can see it. He can see this horrible scene. How her body lies in the ground looking like it is being swallowed by quicksand and then there is darkness. From the darkness emerges a building. </p><p><br/>
It is a victorian styled manor build from red bricks, surrounded by buches of white roses. A man is sitting on the small porch; his pale face and it's sharp features seems familiar. His legs are crossed and he is looking through an old book laying on his knees. Book's pages look as if they could tear at the slightest touch of long, spider's fingers that man in black possesses. Golden cup with a badger lays near him shining in the moonlight. </p><p><br/>
The man raises his head and looks at Harry with bloody red eyes. It is a strange and disturbing look - full of secrets. Harry wants to ask, demand from the man to bring his memory back, because he recognises in this man Tom Riddle, but then he hears a voice, different, but also familiar.</p><p><br/>
"...Potter!" </p><p><br/>
Sudenly Harry sees scared Severus Snape right in front of his face. Wait, why are they in the library? Harry remembers very cleary that he went to sleep after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. </p><p><br/>
"Why are you out of your bed at night... agian?! Fifty points from Gryffindor! And now go to sleep! It won't end at points loss next time," he says and quickly walks away. He didn't even stay to watch Harry when ge goes to the common room.</p><p><br/>
The boy stands up and looks around Restricted Section. How did he end up here? He was sleepeng... wasn't he?</p><p><br/>
Sun rises slowly behind the window when Harry goes outside dragging his legs. At that time of a day, when the milky fog yet floats over the grass like some kind of posion, and it is still dark, the line of Forbidden Forest looks like a mountain of corpses killed by barbarians. The branches create a kind of a mosaic made of limbs and bony fingers opened in pleading gesture. </p><p><br/>
Harry sits under the old oak with spreading crown, leans back against the rough bark and looks at the lake surface.</p><p><br/>
Since he met Lord Voldemort in his second year, nothing looks like it used to anymore, alomst everything had changed. The most important difference is that he lost. He was defeated. He let Voldemort humilitate him, he let him kill Ginny, escape and came back to life. The Boy who defeated the Dark Lord while being just one year old, failed now. He is not a hero anymore, now only thing that matters is his failure. </p><p><br/>
The world forgets about the good thing quickly, people prefer to remember the bad ones better. </p><p><br/>
Of course no one (exept few) knows what really happened in the Chamber of Secrets two years ago. Honestly Harry himself isn't exacly sure, his memory is full of holes. He doesn't even know for sure if Voldemort is truly reborn - it's all Dumbledore's assumptions. That Harry's memory had been changed and all of this is just the one big masquarade.</p><p><br/>
This two years had been different, Harry's dreams are strange, Ron doesn't speak to him. Only Hermione tries to stick three of them together like a glue, but even she is starting to lose hope. The truth is that Harry is alone. The only good thing in his life is Sirius, his godfather and with him Harry can talk anytime he wants trough two-way mirrors. Lately they talk quite often, expecialy when Hermione is somewhere with Krum and Ron plays chess or looks at Ginny's photos.</p><p><br/>
Sirius and Remus are great and Harry often find himself longing form them, thinking about them as his beloved uncles.</p><p><br/>
The sun rises above the horizon telling Harry that it's a time to go back to the castle. Harry stands up heavily and looks at the Forbidden Forest one last time - it doesn't look so scary in the daylight. With a sigh Harry goes back to school.</p><p><br/>
***</p><p><br/>
All the clocks in headmaster's office had agreed to walk back together - their steady ticking makes professor Snape go crazy and he seems ready to kill everyone of them just with his deadly look. He sits on the uncomfortable chair which is opposite to the Dumbledore's desk who looks lost in his thoughts. His fingers are storking his silver beard and his blue eyes look straight without focusing on anything. Like Dumbledore was seeing something more than his office with the eyes of the soul.</p><p><br/>
"Repeat it all again, Severus," he says and it is not a humble questuion, but a request. And Snape knows it well.</p><p><br/>
"As usual I was patrolling the corridors, when I saw opened library's doors. The library seemed empty, but I saw the light in the Restricted Section. It's not like Potter breaking rules suprised me... But first of all he didn't take his damn cloak with him, second he looked like he exacly knew what he was looking for. He just pointed book's titles without reading them. He just knew what they were, even if some of them were too damadged to see the title clearly. You could say it's because he sneaks out too much and knows them, but... then... Albus, then..." He stops for a moment and looks at the shining blue eyes which belong to headmaster. Dumbledore nods and encourages to continue.</p><p><br/>
"He saw me, no, he <em>felt</em> me." Snape brushes his heavy hair behind his ear. "He turned to me with a lazy smile, what was strange itself and then... I saw his eyes, Albus. It was the Dark Lords's eyes."</p><p><br/>
"And that was the exact moment he regained his consciousness? It's important. Something you did might scare him away... or he just recognized you and disapeared. It is remarkably important." Hogwarts' headmaster tightens his fingers on the mahogany desk and looks at the Snape who tries to recall all details. </p><p><br/>
"I thinks... The Dark Lord left Potter's body on his own, he seemed to recognize me, his faithfull servant, because his smile widened. I just disturbed his searching, so he left."<br/>
"And that is why I think he can do it again."<br/>
It is quiet for a moment after Dumbledore's words.</p><p><br/>
"But.. Albus! You can't suggest that the Dark Lord could possess Potter anymoment! He could kill students in his body... searching for the dark books... Because he was looking for something, something that he lacks and needs."</p><p><br/>
"Oh, I'm sure he wants to hear all prophecy now that he regained his body." Dumbledore stops for a moment. "It worries me that he can do with Harry whatever he wants, the boy doesn't know oculmency."</p><p><br/>
"So teach him."</p><p><br/>
"Do you think it is safe to go inside Harry's head now? When Tom can attack every moment? When Legilimens goes into another mind, he becomes vulnerable. I can't risk like that..."</p><p><br/>
"So you're gonna let him do whatever he wishes? Even if he decides to murder half of the Hogwart's students? His smile, Albus, his smile was a declaration of a long and painful tortures if he gets me in his hands." Snape tightens his fingers on the black robe so hard that his knucles becomes white. </p><p><br/>
"I can't let that happen... For now I have to speak with Harry, maybe he can tell us something more. And after that, I'll decide if it is safe to let Harry stay in Hogwarts." Dumbledore looks at his phoenix's empty perch, it has been two years already since the bird disapeard. "At least now we know for sure that Lord Voldemort is back."</p><p><br/>
"Like Fudge would believe you..." Snape stops speaking, because someone knocks at the door.</p><p><br/>
"Albus! I've brought Mr. Potter." Minerva McGonagall walks into the room and after her walks Harry looking like he hadn't get a decent sleep for weeks. </p><p><br/>
"Thank you, Minerva, you can leave now." Both Snape and McGonagall leave the office leaving Harry alone with the headmaster.</p><p><br/>
"I'm sorry for calling you at that late hour, but I'm afraid it was necessary." Dumbledore takes the risk and looks into Harry's eyes. He sighs with relief, when he sees that they are green. But he does it only once, and after that he avoids looking straight into Harry's eyes. </p><p><br/>
"It's no problem, professor. I couldn't sleep anyway." Harry looks like he may pass out anymoment. </p><p><br/>
"And that is the reason you're here, Harry. What do you remembers from your dreams?"<br/>
Harry is silent for a while, thinking and trying to find the right words. </p><p><br/>
"They're about Voldemort, sir," he says quietly. "They're not brutal or interesting. Usually I am Voldemort and as him I'm searching through some books and things like that. Sometimes I am an observer... And I always get the feeling that he knows I am there with him," he ends even quieter than he started.</p><p><br/>
"And that's what I feard, my boy. <em>That you can't be saved anymore."</em> The second sentence is said only in Dumbledore's mind. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>chapters 2-6 are short and there is almost just talking, but I've had to create a world.<br/>quick polish lesson: we don't have "a, an, the" or "der, die, das", so in english I often forgot about them, like I just don't find them necessary. but i'm trying! hard! promise!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A plan that is meant to fail</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello~! So happy to see that so many people enjoy this story! I've changed a method of translation, this one is quicker for me, but can you tell the difference? Is it worse, better or the same?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The train to London runs along the rails. Wheels make horrible noise and white smoke runs from the chimney. Behind the window there are fields, smaler or bigger hills and forests that are full of life - in other words: typical landscape for England. The doors to the compartment where Harry sits opens and Ron with Hermione go inside. Harry can't help but notice how far away from him Ron sits, as close to the door as he can, like he was ready to run in every moment. Hermione looks at Ron skeptically and then sits beside Harry with purring Crookshanks lying on her knees. </p><p><br/>"I don't get why Malfoy seems happy that Hogwart lost Triwizard Tournament. And what if he was supposed to go to Durmstrang?" She is buzing with emotions and storking her cat a little too hard, he hisses at her and jumps of her knees to lie as a fluffy ball on the sit next to her. "Like he studies at Hogwart and is a student of Hogwart."</p><p><br/>"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll change school?" Harry asks with hope, what makes his friends laugh.</p><p><br/>"Don't give me false hope, mate. It would be a heaven... Hogwart without that coward ferret."</p><p><br/>"But wouldn't you miss me, Weasley?" Malfoy is leaning on the door frame and looking at them with mockery.</p><p><br/>"You wish!"</p><p><br/>"He just needs some love. Can't you see his puppy eyes?" Harry asks with laugh and a little bit of provocation in his voice. Ron doesn't even try to contain his burst of laughter what makes Malfoy blush a little.</p><p><br/>"I don't have a puppy eyes, Potter! You better remember this or... My father will hear about it and we'll see who will laugh at the end!"</p><p><br/>After few minutes of laughing and pondering Malfoy's faces, the good mood disapears and Harry keeps quiet, thinking. Nothing will ever be the same, not after what Dumbledore told him. Who knows? Maybe they will miss Malfoy's taunts? Everyday life?</p><p><br/>"That's what I was afraid of, my boy." Dumbledore said then with a serious expression. </p><p><br/>As Harry thinks about it now, the Headmaster looked depressed, as if he didn't want to say another word.</p><p>"Most likely Lord Voldemort has found a way to control you. And that is the source of your nightmares." </p><p><br/>If Harry knew that now all his life will be a nightmare, he would never had agreed to the plan proposed by headmaster. A mad plan that turned the wizardnig community upside down.</p><p><br/>"But... can you fix me? Undone Voldemort's magic?" Harry asked then trembling with fear, but certain that tere was a way to live a normal life. Does he want so much? Peaceful school life, and then, if Fate allows, he would start a lovely family and die of old age, happy and surrounden by the loved ones. </p><p><br/>"I'm afraid that's impossible right now."</p><p>"Impossible...? But...!"The words spoken by the director do not seem real, like they were from Carroll's novel, but where is his white rabbit, huh?</p><p>"You don't know how much I wish it was impossible, but, Harry, there's still hope." And that's when Albus Dumbledore reveals to Harry a plan peculiar from the start. This plan is the beginning of annihilation, a prelude to a nightmare.<br/>"We need time to learn more. I think that after studying the books and curses, we'll be able to come up with something to save you."</p><p>"But can you save me?"</p><p>"We need to be of a good faith."</p><p>"Soo... erm... what is the plan?"<br/>"You will be sent from Hogwarts to a safe place. We can't risk Tom starting to murder students through you. I hope you understand me, Harry?"</p><p><em>I hope you understand me, Harry. I hope you understand me, Harry</em> - these words echoed through Harry's head. He understands, of course, but he would like to not, be deaf to the demands of the world and become an egoist. And he knows that he would hate himself: a coward, caring for his own good. He would hate Harry who would kill Hogwarts just to make himself feel better, so he answers:</p><p>"I understand, professor, I understand perfectly."  Words were distorted by the throat squeezed out of emotion. Harry was simply afraid. Isolation will save the students, but that won't get Voldemort out off his head, right? He will continue to dream, he will still have <em>him</em> in his head.</p><p> "Well." That's the only thing Dumbledore had said." Only in one word he sums up Harry's important choice. "On vacation you will return to the Dursleys, it will be for the best. Lord Voldemort is unable to break through your mother's protection, you will be safe there. I have to think about ... the details of your removal."</p><p>  "Can I go now?"</p><p>"Yes, yes, you are free." After these words, Dumbledore returned to his thoughts and Harry left.</p><p>Harry sighs slightly; his breath paints a delicate cloud on the train's glass, and the train starts to slow down.</p><p> "London already?" He asks with surprise.</p><p>"Yes, take your luggage. Ron, don't forget your Pigwidgeon!" Hermione admonishes.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. I have it, you can't forget about that screaming thing." Ron wrinkles his nose as he looks at the tiny owl struggling in the cage and goes out into the corridor.</p><p>  "Harry, are you all right?"</p><p>Harry feels the girl's hand on his shoulder, so he squeezes it lightly and with a smile he says a simple lie:</p><p>"I'm fine, I was just thinking."</p><p>As usual, there are crowds at the King's Cross station. Parents greet long unseen children, and Harry walks alone through the railing and with a heavy heart walks towards his uncle, who cleans the car bonnet with incredible precision.</p><p><em>Probably tomorrow I will have to wash this car</em>, he  thinks with resignation and greets his uncle.</p><p><em>Not necessarily</em>, the voice in his head whispers, announcing that nothing will be the way it was. Nothing. Everything is heading towards change. The familiar world will collapse in a moment. The wizarding society will lose its hero.</p><p><em>We'll have a lot of fun</em>, promises a voice in Harry's head, but the boy quickly forgets about it. He doesn't even pay attention toit, focusing his attention on his uncle's reprimand that he dared to be late and made him wait.</p><p>
  <em>Harry, soon everything will change. Everything. I can't let you live with such people after all, can I? You will be grateful I frred you from them and you will be obliged to repay me. And I will embrace you with joy and open arms. Now that I have found a way to immortality, I am no longer in need for Horcruxes. That's why you must disappear, my dear Horcrux. And you will. Soon. I promise you, Harry.</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I like the next chapter a lot, not my favorite though.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A gift from the devil himself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>warnings: some graphic descriptions of violence, death, gore etc. etc. but it's what you all came here for, right?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>In the dream, Harry is in the garden. It is surrounded by white roses, and far away you can see a field of sunflowers. Harry revolves around his axis. A tall oak tree on a light hill, below is a Victorian red brick house surrounded by slowly wilting roses. But the red ones at the iron gate are slowly beginning to bloom.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You came to me?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harry turns around hearing Voldemort's voice. The Dark Lord stands next to a withering rose bush, dressed in a matte black robe with a dark green collar. His smile gives the impression of a lion's smile, which after a long hunt finally caught its prey.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I didn't want to ... What am I doing here?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Dreaming"  a simple answer is given. "It's just a dream ... and it's the dream."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>" I do not understand. Why are you keeping me here? Let me out! Leave me alone!" Harry looks in a panic in his pants for a wand, but it turns out he's also wearing a robe: all  green but darker at the bottom. He stares helplessly at Voldemort, who turns his wand between his fingers and looks at Harry with a sly smile.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But Harry, I expected a warmer welcome." Riddle walks closer to Harry and leans forward so that their eyes are at the same height. "After all, we haven't seen each other for... two years? How did you do without me? Hm?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fine, thank you for your concern," Harry answers rebelliously and tries to pull away from Tom. This meeting awakens long forgotten feelings and memories. He never wants to go back to the events of the second year.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I have to admit that I'm disappointed in you... So many possibilities and so many missed opportunities. It's really a shame..." Riddle lifts both corners of the mouth up, but lowers them so quickly that Harry is not sure that Voldemort did smile for sure.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Let me out!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Wrong answer." Harry flinches when he feels a hot breath on his neck. He turns around, ready to defend himself. Lord Voldemort stands behind him with an innocent expression and urges Harry with his hand to ask the question which he has at the tip of his tongue.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What the hell do you want?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, just  your life. I must add, Harry, that the headmaster would certainly be disappointed in the choice of your vocabulary.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like you care about my vocabulary, Riddle! Fuck off and leave me alone! Am I asking for so damn much?!" Harry's scream is desperate and pleading. Voldemort looks disgusted by his behavior.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Of course you are asking for too much. You're just an empty shell, as you had just proved ... But, my little brave wizard, I want to help you. Know the generosity of Lord Voldemort and accept this ... modest gift."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harry wakes up with a throbbing headache. With a sigh, he rubs the scar and drags from the bed, his limbs fell heavy and sore. He stretches and looks at the white ceiling. There is a dead fly on the lamp, so Harry wrinkles his nose in disgust and shifts his eyes to his bare feet. He moves his fingers and tries to remember the dream. It was weird, that's for sure. Harry can still smell the sweet, even bland smell of some flowers in his nostrils. Somewhere in the subconscious he knows that this dream was somehow important, but he cannot recall even the smallest details.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The sun slowly rises outside the window, covering the idntical roofs of the twin houses on Privet Drive with golden light. Sprinklers are already working on some properties - you can say what you want, but the residents of this street care for green grass with deadly accuracy and precision.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harry's head still hurts when the he's frying the bacon slices with the empty and growling stomach. Fat is sizzling in the pan, and Harry finds swallowing hard.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Do not think about it, do not think, then you will be less hungry</em> - he repeats himself stubbornly , but still he greedily looks at thin strips of meat looking so appetizing. The fat keeps spattering, so Harry removes the pan from the gas and puts food on the plates, rubbing the scar that persistently is itching.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Potter takes a plate with a previously prepared slice of bread with  margarine and escapes to the room, not wanting to expose himself to his uncle, but his efforts are futile.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Boy!"  The call can be heares from the living room when Harry puts down his already empty plate and wants to quietly return to the room. Harry turns on his heel halfway and stands in front of Vernon Dursley who is reclining on the coach watching the news program.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes?" Harry asks in a resigned voice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>" It's Saturday, wash the car. Tomorrow we are going to Marge and I can't show up among people in such a car. What are you looking at?! Go! Do you think we are feeding you for what?! - Uncle Vernon waves his hand to make Harry go away, and then turns up the volume of the reciever.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harry closes his eyes, wanting to say something about his food rations, but he bites his tongue in time. He knows that it is better not to aggravate the already bad situation.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It is incredibly hot outside, so Harry is relieved to hide his hands in icy water, and then he washes his face and neck with it too. There is not a single cloud in the sky and the sun hangs high. However, when Harry returns home, separated flower beds, and digged up the grass between the cubes forming the driveway, the sun slowly hides behind the tall buildings.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harry's stomach makes a loud noise as he climbs the stairs, thinking only of rest. He doesn't even wash his dirty hands. As soon as he reaches the room, he lies down on the bed, which at the moment seems like heaven, and immediately falls asleep.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>His dream is strange again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He's at the Privet Drive. He slowly gets out of bed to look at the ground behind his nails with contempt and disgust. He directs his steps to the bathroom, where he thoroughly scrub his hands until the skin turns red. Only then he looks in the mirror and smiles. He closes his red eyes and leaves the bathroom, first wiping his hands on a red towel.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He goes down the stairs slowly, through the window he sees that the crescent moon is hanging high; his bare feet make peculiar sounds on the panels.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The whole Dursley family watches the comedy program, laughing wildly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>I wonder who will laugh at the end</em>, he thinks and enters the room. Barefoot, in a torn shirt and too loose pants.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The red curtain covers the shining moon, the clock on the fireplace shows a minute past 9pm, the clown on the TV turns on a unicycle in dots with the applause and laughter of the audience gathered around the circus arena.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The wand  lies securely in the small hand of the boy when he aims st the heads of hisfamily again and again. Like a madman playing with a gun. They haven't noticed him yet. With the next wave of laughter, the first spell falls. A short word, and Dudley falls on the soft carpet in the spasms od pain. His eyeballs roll up showing eye white when the whole body shakes like in an epilepsy attack, saliva flows from the corner of his mouth.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>His parents' screams are probably even louder than the squeaking of a pig lying on the ground. The wand is wisely directed at the adults to silence them. Now they can only look with horror at the torments of their son, afraid to find themselves near their nephew armed with a wand.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fat boy on the ground after a few minutes stops moving, just stupidly looks at the expensive chandelier above his head. A flash of green light and he dies. The woman falls on his body, drowning in tears. Her face contorts in the ugliest expression of pain and despair when she shakes her son's dead body.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She joins him quickly. A painless death is not a sign of grace, but rather weariness.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Vernon Dursley, in turn, is hit by the beautiful in its macabre cutting curse, and he bleeds in torments.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harry looks at the dead family and then at his bare feet covered in Vernon's blood. Then onto the window glass where his face is reflected - his eyes sparkle with murderous greenery. With shaking hands, Harry puts his wand in his back pants pocket and takes a step back, realizing that it wasn't a dream - it's a damn reality.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>two chapter a day! 'cause they're short! and I like that one a lot. let's go down with  this shit!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 5. The madness of a starless night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The temporary emptiness in Harry's head is replaced by a sudden realisation - was that Dumbledore's plan? From the very beginning?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The headmaster must have been aware of the fact that Voldemort would try to possess Harry. Just why was that supposed to do? After all, the only protection now disappeared since his family was killed, or rather murdered. Harry walks outside in horror and looks around. No Death Eaters. For now, but Harry knows they'll be here soon. After all, there has to be the reason why Voldemort was bothering to possess Harry and kill his aunt and uncle, and what reason could it be if not to appear and kill the boy, first removing his mother's protection.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without thinking, acting rather on impulse, Harry runs upstairs and releases Hedwig, then runs downstairs and takes all his belongings from the cupboard. In his bare feet covered in blood of his uncle he goes out into the street to be greeted by a group of aurors aiming at him with their wands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are set in an even semicircle, their wands point straight at Harry's head, which is still pulsating with dull pain - he feels Voldemort's anger. Something went wrong, not the way he wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “You are suspected of using Unforgivable Spells. Show your wand. Slowly,” says a man unknown to Harry with slanted, cloudy eyes and graying hair. Some aurors go into the house. When they come back they look pale and disgusted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Dead bodies, great,” a man with a Sarmatian mustache and an eastern accent says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry reaches into his back pocket and tightens fingers on his wand. Holly and phoenix feather. His devoted friend who never let him down. The wood pulses with a pleasant warmth, but Harry perfectly remembers what he did with this wand. He tortured and killed his only remain family. Now there really is nobody. The boy slowly pulls out his wand and shows it to the Aurors who are quite scared at the sight of her. Harry involuntarily prepares to attack as the Asian auror casts Expelliarmus. He would be stupid and naive, thinking he has any chance against the Auror after full-time training. The spell knocks Harry's beloved friend away; the wand lands in the auror's outstretched hand, he confiscates it with a grim smile and secures it properly. White light flashes around Harry's wand like a nice cloud envelope, then the auror puts it in a black, lacquered box. Wands are aimed at Harry all the time, and the first syllables of deafening spells form at the ends of the wizards' tongues, if Harry Potter intended to escape.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sky above them is cloudy, it’s looks like it;s going to be a summer storm - a violent one causing terror in people when it destroys everything on its way. Black clouds swirl, thunder rangs somewhere in the distance, and wind begins to bend the flexible and fragile branches of the trees, as if trying to snatch the hands of the trees from the ponds. The first drops of warm rain fall to the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The somber Auror with bushy mustache looks up at the sky and sneezes loudly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "Bless you," Harry says automatically. The heart is pounding in his chest. What will happen to him now?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "Thanks," he says, then grunts in confusion. The Asian rolls his eyes to his colleague's reaction and tightens his fingers on his wand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "You will come with us," he says, and Harry's heart almost stops for a short while. He opens his mouth to shout that he is innocent, that it’s not him. Well, damn it, he's not even sixteen years old and ... and ... Nobody will actually believe him. No one will believe the bullshit about Voldemort in his head, since they are convinced that he is dead. Tears gather in Harry’s eyes, who is aware of the hopelessness of his situation. The contours of the world are blurred by salty tears and rain, which hits the glasses of Harry's glasses with increasing force.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “I ... - I didn't do it,” he wants to shout, but the words are stuck in his throat and only an inarticulate sound comes out: something between squawk and squeak. "II ..." Harry makes another unsuccessful attempt. Failures make the tears run down the red face. The faces of the Aurors are implacable, they are not moved by the tears of despair of the teenager. Maybe they see it as a poor attempt to plead guilty? Their hard eyes rest on the bloody boy who is crying in front of them, unable to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Park, tie him up.” The tall wizard in the pony at the crown of his head turns to the Asian, who spells Harry's hands with a golden rope. Unable to move his arms, Harry waits for further instructions, feeling the pleasant warmth coming from the rope.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Do you know what Apportation is?” asks the Asian. Some wizards laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Park, he just have killed his family, how should he not know the Apportation?” They wonder aloud, chuckling insolently and casting contemptuous glances at Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “He has a trunk, he obviously tried to escape, bastard…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No curses, Mark.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry quietly replies that he does not know, and Auror Park teleports him to the Ministry of Magic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the bodies of the Dursley family are taken and the place is completely abandoned by the Aurors, a lonely figure appears in front of the house. A man is wearing a Muggle cloak with a hood pulled on his eyes glistening red in the dark of the night. The moon leans out from heavy, storm clouds that run away as if from light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort looks like something unbelievably upsets him. He strolls nervously and nibbles his lower lip with long fingers. He is like a crow who lost his victim. Now he can only spread his death black wings helplessly and squawk that this was not the plan. However, Lord Voldemort was not endowed with the miserable mind of a bird, but a keen psychopath, and at the end he will be victorious. That's why Tom Riddle's mad face, glistening like wax in the bland moonlight, has a predatory smile. After all, he can manage matters for his own benefit. The boy he can kill afterwards, now he needs to talk to Lucius. It will truly be a fascinating meeting after years apart. There are no stars in the sky when he disappears into a cloud of black smoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~ * ~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On a stormy July night, a tiny owl provides the headmaster of Hogwarts with a sealed letter from the Ministry of Magic. The content makes Albus Dumbledore pale immediately and with shaking hands he puts the parchment on a cluttered desk. For a moment he hides his face in wrinkled hands and looks away, so he doesn't have to look at the cursed letters. The plan went too well. He didn't think, dared not think that Voldemort would go so far. Is it his fault that everything ended up like this? Should he fix it ...? Or maybe continue this dangerous game? After all, it can still work out for good, it can secure Harry so that he doesn't hurt anyone anymore. Yes, he made no mistake. Everything will work out and for now he must call Severus.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>just one more short chapter and we're going to have some fun chapters full of misery &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. They surround you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sirius rarely sleeps through the all night - usually he just lies, blankly staring at the ceiling, like a child, afraid to close his eyes. Because closing your eyes means nightmares, whose worst feature is their reality, because they are echoes of the past.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the fact that Sirius usually does not sleep through the night, he wakes up this summer day around noon, feeling overwhelming heat; the sun warms the heavy curtains on the windows, making the bedroom hot as an oven.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets up and for a moment he enjoys the bare feet 'contact with the smooth and cold floor boards. He brushes the hair back from his face, stretches, feeling lazy and eager for morning coffee. However, it collects the energy and reveals the windows; the red curtains are really hot from the sun. London is teeming with life on this summer morning, and Sirius's mood immediately improves. Maybe he'll talk with the kid today? After all, they had last seen each other through a two-way mirror when Harry was still in Hogwart. Black can't wait for his godson to come to Grimmauld Place. It's probably his current goal in life - to hug Harry and laugh with him by the fireplace all night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Going down to the kitchen, he passes Kreacher muttering under his breath curses about savage wizards unworthy of theirs name, elf polishes the picture frame of this old cuttlefish. It is quiet in the corridor, the only sound being Sirius' footsteps and his slightly hoarse breath. On the ground floor Sirius gets cold, so he summons a warm, cotton sweater from the room, and he puts it  on with relief. The disadvantage is that his long hair gets static, but he does not pay attention to it and enters the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It radiates warmth - a fire burns in the hearth, hot steam comes out of the kettle, and hot food on the table is devoured by the Weasley children and Hermione.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Mornin’!” Padfoot greets people in the kitchen with the roguish smile and takes his place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oddly enough, no one answers him. Hermione keeps silent and Ron mutters something incomprehensible under his breath. Sirius raises his head from his sausages, wipes the corners of his mouth from the ketchup and looks at the grim faces of the people around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has someone died?” Hermione gets up abruptly from the table, the wooden legs of the chair creak on the tiles, and runs out of the kitchen with red eyes; young Weasley only rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Molly hands him the newspaper with grave face. Sirius looks at the direction Hermione has run out, anxiety in his heart. What had happened?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Daily Prophet's headline screams:”The Chosen One a murderer?! Shocking events of July night. Did the hope of the wizarding world killed in the cold blood? More on page 4.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sirius doesn't even want to delve into reading, he puts down Skeeter's crap scribbles and goes back to breakfast, thinking that he should comfort the kid when he arrives and assure him that only morons will believe it. Really, couldn't she think of something more preposterous? Well, who would believe that this cute kid with a hero complex could kill someone? But he remembers Hermione's reaction and frowns. After all, she should know well that people will care and tomorrow they will forget and everything will return to normal. She is a smart girl. She should be a smart girl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Why did she run?” He nods at the door. “Skeeter is not writing such nonsense for the first time.” Sirius shakes his head in disgust and returns to the steaming sausages. When he drinks his tea, Molly says a sentence that makes him almost choke on his drink:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “That's the truth, Sirius.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sirius tries to stop the uncontrolled coughing caused by the fact that the tea flew where it shouldn't have.. The desire to explode with a mad cackle at the words of a red-haired woman who looks at him anxiously don’t make things easier..</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Easy, easy.” Mrs Weasley pats him on the back and takes empty dishes to the sink. “Better?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What utter nonsense are you all talking about? Do you really believe this scam?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Young Weasley looks at him grimly and walks out, grunting under his breath. Sirius walks him with a questioning look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Molly? Can you explain it to me? Why is everyone behaving like this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The plump woman sighs and sits down in front of Sirius in the chair Hermione had abandoned so abruptly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "We couldn't believe it either... it seemed so unbelievable... But today an owl from the Ministry of Magic was sent to Professor Dumbledore. It said that Harry had been arrested and the trial would take place in two days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have the audacity to say it so calmly?! It's definitely... it’s surely false accusations! Harry would never kill! Never!” Sirius is rising. He can't understand how people can be so stupid. “We have to go to the Ministry! Like now! Let me find my wand... I will show them that no one is accusing my godson and gets to keep both his legs!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sirius, calm down. You are a wanted criminal.” Molly tries to touch Sirius' hand to support him, but he takes it from the table and looks at Mrs. Weasley with a flash of lightning in his eyes. “You can't just show up like that in public.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Don't tell me to calm down, woman! Because I won’t! How can they?! Where the hell  is Dumbledore when you need him?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In the Ministry. He’s trying to find out more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>These words soothe a tiny fragment of Sirius' soul. He's Dumbledore, the only man Voldemort fears. If anyone can do something, that’s him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sirius can't stand Molly's eyes, so he just goes out and heads for Buckbeak's bedroom. He will be the one to believe him because the people in this house are too stupid for that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry gets locked in a small room with an uncomfortable bed he is currently sitting on and a with a makeshift toilet. He is separated from the outside world by magic bars buzzing with excess electricity, and the only companion is dust suffocating the respiratory system. The walls are a boring and colorless void without life, and the floor shines after it was cleaned with a spell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bare feet get cold quickly, so the boy pulls them on the bed to cover them with the gray blanket. Everything happened so quickly that they are still covered in blood, which begins to stink slowly. How long he is sitting here? Hour? Two? Eternity? There is no clock nor window to determine the time of day. Maybe it's already a morning?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry is freezing and the room temperature has nothing to do with it. Ice-cold tentacles of fear pass over him, and the body shivers with chills as soon as he remembers about previous events. About blood, about the moon, about possession. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like in a fucking horror movie</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Harry thinks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't want to think about what he was forced to do. His beloved wand was viciously used for the murder. Will he be charged with that? For cold blooded, unscrupulous murder? After all, he has a motive - he was abused, so he took his revenge. Simple case, obvious verdict - guilty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Burning hatred for Voldemort only grows in his heart, in proportion to his disgust at his weakness that he couldn't stop it. Why couldn't he wake up faster? Why is he so vulnerable to this monster's influence?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, my little wizard ... No one just taught you the real magic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry freezes for a moment and then shouts aloud:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Go away! LEAVE ME ALONE!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks around with horror for the source of Riddle's voice, although he knows that Voldemort is not really here. It's just a voice; the body is thousands of miles away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Happy?” Harry grumbles under his breath, partly agreeing that the voice will be with him already; only death will separate them. “Because I'm here because of you?” He's not sure if speaking in his head and thoughts is enough, so just in case he says every sentence out loud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Very.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry gives up and settles on the bed more comfortably, falling into a light sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voice comes again when a picture of Dumbledore appears behind the magic bars.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have a guest. Have fun, little wizard.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Harry jumps out of bed and looks hopefully at the Headmaster. The lower lip begins to vibrate, and tears appear in the eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Professor ... I ... I really, it's not me .... it's not me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My respect for you decreases with every second.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, easy. Harry, everything is going according to plan. Do you remember? You've agreed to it after all."Albus Dumbledore's voice is calm and he is certain that everything will go well."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “The plan?" Harry is only able to gruff two words. Paralysis embraces his body. How did he agree? He did not agree to this! After all, the plan was to go to a safe place, the murder of uncle and the bloody Azkaban were out of the question! “But that wasn't the pla ... “The strength leaves  him and he can't even scream. “Am I going to the Azkaban?” He asks pathetically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You, me, one cell. These will be unforgettable years of your sentence, Harry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Calm down, my boy. No Azkaban, you're underage, they won't send you there. You have a defense line that will do everything to get you to where you were supposed to be, i.e. to Nurmengard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “But it's still a prison…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dazzling deduction. You know, I'm having good fun, admiring the fool's efforts. You are really surrounded by enemies. It's funny you know? How everything will fall apart ...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You'll be safe there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And I won't be a threat to others," Harry finishes resignedly and returns to his bed. Suddenly he doesn't want to talk to the director, who at the beginning gave him so much hope.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dumbledore sighs quietly behind the bars and looks as if he wanted somehow to comfort the boy, but he knows that any action would be pointless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Although I didn't plan to make things so rigorous, everything can be turned to our benefit, Harry, remember that."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “...Dumbledore! Professor Dumbledore! The time! I only let you for a moment. If Buckery finds out I let you in here without supervision, he'll cut my head off! Or almost cut off and I'll be like Nick. Really, please, leave now, Professor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can calm down, Nymphadora, I’m already leaving."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Behind the bars appears the figure of a pink-haired woman, who winks at Harry and immediately walks away with the Hogwarts’ headmaster, whispering in a loud whisper about using her surname instead of the name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Harry again is left alone only with Voldemort's company in his head, which he tries hard to ignore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In an hour he is called to the interrogation room, which he leaves after three. There he is informed by Auror Park that his trial will take place in less than a day.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>it's was the last of the short chapters! next is the trail, oh the joy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Their second name is Brutus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so... long time no see, huh? I didn't forget about it, like hell, but yeah, totally forgot. please don't mind my mistakes and enjoy the ride~!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is chaos at the Ministry of Magic on the day of the Harry Potter hearing. Paper planes which are functioning as owls, fly back and forth passing urgent messages, people shout and push, trying to break through the wall of Aurors and get to the courtroom, where they can witness the end of the scandal, which shook the small wizarding world.</p><p><br/>The entire Weasley family came to the atrium, looking around they follow their slowly balding father. Journalists rush towards them like hungry hyenas as soon as they notice the concentration of orange color so distinctive against the background of gray and brown.</p><p><br/>“Sevile Grakchus, Witch Weekly. Can you tell us what you think about this case? Guilty or not?” The reporter gives Mrs Weasley an expectant look, pushing elbows off the staff of other newspapers.</p><p><br/>“Well... Certainly…”</p><p><br/>"Let's go, Molly, the trial begins in ten minutes. Don't waste time on journalists.”  Mr. Weasley shows common sense and pulls his wife away from the reporter hungry for sensation, who, however, does not give up and steadfastly exclaims further questions.</p><p>The high-pitched voice of a blond-haired woman stands out through the screaming of journalists and ordinary people who came as onlookers:</p><p><br/> “Is Potter a psychopath? What are your thougts on that matter? Maybe there were some signals?”</p><p><br/>“I mean, he was always a quiet boy, but…”</p><p><br/>“Molly! Let's go.”</p><p><br/>“What about an exclusive interview? Like in old times?” Rita elbows the insistent reporter wanting to take advantage of her merits in pinning the victim to ask some questions for his own magazine. Rita pinnsd her interlocutor with the eyes from under the diamond glasses.”What do you say?”</p><p><br/> “So you could write such nonsense like after the death of our daughter?!” He takes a break to get some air and then adds: “Thank you.” Artur Weasley says these words with unusual for him venom, and Rita Skeeter pinnes another, how willing, victim in the form of Draco Malfoy.</p><p><br/>The Fountain of Magic Brotherhood, located in the very center of the atrium, stands alone, able only to look at the madness that engulfed the wizarding world. A bright light illuminates her, but no one pays attention to her peaceful message - everyone is thirsty for blood that will spill in the courtroom today.</p><p><br/>Remus Lupin hesitantly comes out of the fireplace and dusts off the threadbare jacket. He looks around anxiously in the dark room; he stares at the wizards for a moment, then heads towards the elevator, loosening his tie, because fear does not allow him to breathe. He tries not to look at the sneering faces of pure-blooded or at curious reporters; he slips unnoticed to escape the insistent questions. He's looking in the crowd for Dumbledore. He must find the headmaster of Hogwarts. He just can't stand by. He knows they won't let someone like him into the courtroom, but he needs to make sure Harry is safe. As a man carrying the werewolf gene, he has very little to say and his opinion does not count much for the Wizengamot, so all he can do is beg Dumbledore to save his best friends' son from cruel fate. After all, he would not break in to the trial, shouting insults as Sirius planned (for which he was grounded by Albus, so he wouldn't do something stupid that would hurt Harry, like a rescue mission).</p><p><br/>Despite the serious situation, Remus smiles at the memory of his friend ready to sacrifice himself, so that only his godson was safe. It's a bitter smile, full of nostalgia.</p><p><br/>He slides into the elevator and gets off on the second floor. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The corridor seems to be narrow with so much people crowded in it, cameras flash, and every single wozard here speaks on a matter he has no idea about - at this sight Remus clenches his teeth in anger, but does nothing to stop that nonesense. Because what can he do?</p><p><br/>Dumbledore, however, is out of sight. Remus squeezes through the crowds of wizards, but nowhere he can spot the silver beard. He finally gives up. He looks sadly at the plaque magicaly attached to the door: Case of Harry Potter, No. 0033, Judge - Amelia Bones.</p><p><br/>Dumbledore probably wanted to avoid reporters, yes, that's what he did, Remus tells himself, and forces himself to believe in this man's strength. Because he has nothing else left.</p><p><br/>When Remus Lupine leaves The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and goes to the atrium to await the sentence with a beating heart, the door to the courtroom (the largest and most magnificent in the whole Ministry, able to accommodate many spectators) opens wide, and a magical voice announces that the trial will start in ten minutes.<br/>Harry sits in a small room next to it, talking quietly to Dumbledore, who is his attourney. Although he rather listens to the director's monologue and tries to remember the guidelines - what to say and how. Hands bound by a magical ray of energy limit his movements. Harry is wearing clothes provided by the Ministry or arranged otherwise, who knows. Auror Park brought them, saying only that he had to put them on, and then led him to the bathroom so Harry could make himself presentable. But his young face is adorned with dark shadows under the eyes and furrows of fatigue, and his whole body didn't rest, tired from the stress and Voldemort in the head.</p><p><br/>The door opens silently, and two unknown to Harry Aurors enter the room to escort him to the courtroom. Heavily, not wanting to be on the other side of the wall at all, where the end of his life awaits him, Harry gets up from the chair and lets Aurors walk him to the round room. The Aurors have their wands ready, which to some extent makes Harry laugh, after all... How would he escape? What would he do? He's handcuffed, for the Merlin's sake!</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>If you had any common sense, you would have done it a long time ago.</em>
</p><p><br/>Harry just snorts, which earns the surprised looks of two men, to which Tom responds quietly laughing, saying something about the fact that it is so much of being seen as sane.</p><p><br/>The courtroom is a round room. On the right side of Harry, on the platform, there are Wizengamot members dressed in purple robes, among them a judge stands out wearing a black dress. In the honorable place sits the Minister of Magic - Cornelius Fudge looking at Harry with visible resentment. Harry suddenly wants to quit it all. His life... as long as Voldemort is in his head, Harry is a threat to the lives of others.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>Don't think so high of yourself, it's mostly my doing.</em>
</p><p><br/>Harry ignores his voice and focuses on specific stands arranged in a semicircle filled with onlookers. Among them are faces more or less known, but everyone is whispering among themselves.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>They made a nice game of your process. It will be an unforgettable spectacle, believe me.</em>
</p><p><br/>There are special places for witnesses in the front of the audience. There are many familiar faces, people he trusts or hates, people indifferent to him or strangers. He looks away.</p><p><br/>He is seated on a lonely chair in the middle of the hall, and he is separated from the audience by a metal bars (as if he could attack them, as if he wanted to attack them). Dumbledore joins him and stands beside him as if to cheer him up. As if it would magicaly help Harry. Magic chains immediately wrap around Harry's wrists and ankles, they cut into the skin quite painfully. Cameras flashes constantly accompanies him. Finally, after a minute of waiting, the judge stands up and announces:</p><p><br/>"We're starting the trial of Harry Potter accused of killing three Muggles: Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley. Porscutor, please stand up and present the indictment."</p><p><br/>After these words, a tall official in glasses rises.</p><p><br/>  "The prosecutor is the Aurors Bureau, I will represent the indictment as a representative."</p><p><br/>For nearly five minutes he talks about the circumstances in which Harry was found and evidence of his guilt. Harry can only look at his shoes and be quiet, although his thoughts go crazy. Because he did  kill. Even if possessed by Voldemort, but his body killed. He is a killer.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>Don't take credit for my actions.</em>
</p><p><br/>Harry politely ignores the intrusive voice in his head and focuses back on the trial. In the perfect moment, because the judge asks him a question.</p><p><br/>"Let Mr. Potter himself tell you about those events."Please, you have the floor, sir. Did you kill your relatives?"</p><p><br/>It's time to start the show.</p><p><br/>Harry, against all common sense, agrees with Voldemort, because that's what he's going to do. This process is one big game directed by Dumbledore.</p><p><br/> "Voldemort did it." Short, straight to the point.</p><p><br/>"What do you mean by that?" Whispers murmur in the crowd, so the judge is forced to silence them.</p><p><br/>Harry stares at Amelia Bones's serious face, wanting to laugh. He knows, however, that this would not be appropriate, so he stops the muscles of his face from moving, controlling himself enough that his lips contort in a crooked grimace. A grimace that could be considered a madman's smile, but Harry is not mad.</p><p><br/>"My scar... See? " The magic chains are loose enough that Harry can reveal the black fringe, revealing a narrow lightning-shaped scar. "He left it to me when he tried to kill me. Every wizard knows that, right? The famous scar of Harry Potter after the unforgivable spell, the killing spell," he says bitterly. " But what exactly does it mean? Let me tell you, it means that I have him in my head."</p><p><br/>His words cause more whispers and murmurs among the audience and members of Wizengamot. He even hears these contemptuous terms lined with hostility. Funny that he doesn't care anymore. Harry is fed up with it, he wants to finish it all and relax. Go for a well-deserved retirement in being a hero in shining armor accounted for every mistake and observed at every step.</p><p><br/>Ignoring the allegations of being a psychopath, Harry focuses on Amelia Bones, who looks as if she wanted to believe his words, but she couldn't. Harry takes a deep breath, seeing that the plan is going well so far.</p><p><br/> "And what do you mean by that, Mr. Potter?" Asks someone from the Wizengamot.</p><p><br/>"That it was him, who killed."</p><p><br/>"How comfortable!" Someone snarls, so Harry raises his head to look into the cold eyes of Lucius Malfoy.</p><p><br/>"So you don't plead guilty?" Amelia Bones narrows her already narrow eyes, staring at Harry Potter's focused face.</p><p><br/>"No. My... family was murdered by Lord Voldemort possessing my body. I had no influence on this."</p><p><br/>"You don't think we'll believe the bullshit," someone snorts.</p><p><br/>"Then you can give me Veritaserum and check me out," Harry says hard. He is already so tired, he would like to finish it as soon as possible.</p><p><br/>"This potion is too strong for people under the age of seventeen and its use by a minor is sanctioned by the Ministry,"  the judge recites dryly from her memory.</p><p><br/>"If I can interfere, Your Honor." Lucius Malfoy stands up and brushes a strand of blonde hair off his face. "I think it was planned and Mr Potter mentioned Veritaserum only because he knew it couldn't be served. Thank you."</p><p><br/>There are murmurs of approval, but Harry doesn't care. He will simply play until the end, he will be sent to where he is to be sent and finally... he will rest. Although somewhere deep down, old Harry speaks, wanting to shout his arguments until he tears his throat and prove his innocence; however, this former Harry is suppressed by reality.</p><p><br/>Amelia Bones just nods, acknowledging Lucius Malfoy's words and focusing her attention again on Harry Potter.</p><p><br/>"Can the accused provide any evidence confirming the guilt of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"</p><p><br/>Harry is silent. He doesn't knowwhat to say. After all, his only proof is his words.</p><p><br/>"I understand," the judge sighs after a minute of silence. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now we will question witnesses."</p><p><br/>Harry is still sitting in his chair as the Aurors speak behind the special barrier, describing exactly what they saw. Harry's behavior, every single detail. That he wanted to run away in his pajamas to that that  his bare feet were covered in blood.\</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>Definitely such hearings are boring, but I think I can comfort you, dear Harry.</em>
</p><p><br/>Like how? Harry wants to shrug his shoulders to show that he doesn't care about Voldemort's sentence, but he comes to his senses because he's among the people. Will he tell them this time that he is having a nice chat with Lord Voldemort? They will lock him up in St. Mungo without hesitation.</p><p>
  <em> The finale will be exciting.</em>
</p><p><br/>Harry, however, quickly forgets Riddle's strange words when the judge begins to question his friends.</p><p><br/>Hermione seems nervous when she talks in a low voice about their friendship.</p><p><br/>"I can't believe Harry would do such a thing.We've known each other since the beginning of Hogwarts, I mean we met on the train, but we became friends a little later... Anyway, I know Harry very well and he wouldn't be able to kill someone in such an awful way. He may not get along with his aunt and uncle, but I believe he would not commit a murder."</p><p><br/>"So Harry Potter could have a motive?"</p><p><br/>"Just because they weren't on good terms doesn't mean he had a motive."</p><p><br/>"But he could have?"</p><p><br/>"Yeah...?"</p><p><br/>"What would you say about Mr. Potter's behavior? Has anything changed in him lately?" </p><p><br/><em> Oh,</em>  Harry thinks, <em>Dumbledore's man.</em></p><p><br/>"Certainly, after the events of the Chamber of Secrets and the death of Ginny, he wasn't old Harry, he was more secretive and quiet ... He was more introverted. But that's understandable, Ginny's death shocked everyone."</p><p><br/>"Thank you, Miss Granger. You can sit down now.</p><p><br/>Next is Ron. Harry immediately knows that this part of the trial won'tbe forgotten by him for a long time. Dear Ron, Harry's best buddy insinuates Harry's guilt in Ginny's death and says openly that he probably has a disease because his behavior has changed dramatically. There is confidence in his voice, so a few wizards nod their heads, muttering to each other. Because if Potter's best friend says so, there must be something to it, right?</p><p><br/>"Harry is my mate," Ron continues, with every word making Harry want to go to his cell to curl into a tight ball and forget the horrible feeling of being abandoned. "At least I thought so... well, as Hermione said, after G-Ginny's death, Harry wasn't the one we once knew. And... and he started to distance himself from us, he always sat alone and was not like he was before. There was really something wrong with him after that."</p><p><br/>After her son Molly Weasley testifies . She assures that Harry is a good child and a lovely one, and that is must be some kind of a misunderstanding. She even cries a whale tears, pitying the poor boy. Artur Weasley doubts his sanity. He even goes so far  to suggest that it was Dursley upbringing that affected his psyche. Harry refrains from silent laughter, only contorting his lips in a strange grimace. </p><p><br/><em>"It's getting more and more comical,"</em> Tom whispers. <em>"You surround yourself with such pathetic people..."</em></p><p><br/>A soft whisper vibrates, causing Harry's skin to shiver, as if it was a cold breeze.</p><p><br/>Meanwhile, the wizard in purple robes proposes confinement in Nurmengard to prevent further misfortunes, because Harry Potter is insane and capable of the most terrible crimes, since he thinks he has Voldemort in his head and that he must listen to his treacherous whispers. Harry can hear Tom's loud laughter in his head.</p><p><br/>"Objection." Lucius Malfoy raises his hand, slowly rising from his seat. "In this room it has been proved how dangerous and unpredictable man Harry Potter is, illness is just an excuse for these terrible deeds. That is why some Wizengamot asks for a higher sentence and sentencing Harry Potter to serving Azkaban's sentence, thinking, supported by appropriate documentation, that Nurmengard's safeguards are inadequate."</p><p><br/>The file file disappears from Malfoy's hand to appear on the judge's desk. Amelia Bones stares at the man for a moment, as if she wants to express her objection, but out of her mouth only comes:</p><p><br/>"The documents will be attached to the case file."</p><p><br/>Subsequent statements are lost unnoticed by Harry, who focuses on the word Azkaban. It vibrates; strangely saturated with fear and the worst associations. It spreads like a wave of darkness on the boy's mind and makes him choke in fear. A-z-k-a-b-a-n. Ordinary letters of the Latin alphabet, which, when folded, create a house of dementors filled with fear and rot of darkness.</p><p><br/>Harry's hands suddenly start shaking, so he holds them together, trying to control his movements. He would like to be able to believe that it is only a dream (extremely lousy and unbelievable), but he has already lost his strength to fight. And although the word Azkaban awakens something in him, fear urges him to act to avoid being in this terrible place, Harry sits quietly in his chair, looking at his hands sweat-soaked in cold sweat, and just wants it to end.</p><p><br/> "You know what?" He says calmly with a slight mockery in his voice. He raises his head and stares at the crowd with tired green eyes. "Yes, I killed them. With a pleasure."</p><p><br/>What follows his words can be called an armageddon, but Harry has had enough. Really. Dumbledore tries to save the situation,  giving Harry a questioning look. And Harry is just tired now, so he sits quietly and calmly, without looking up.</p><p><br/>Lost in thought, he does not notice that the break is over, nor is it beginning. Amelia Bones, with a serious and rather sad face, as if she was doing it just because she was outvoted, reads the verdict:</p><p><br/>"The court and Wizengamot founds Harry Potter  guilty of murdering the Dursley family. The punishment for the murder of Muggles is life imprisonment, but the court, due to the young age of the perpetrator and suspected illness, shortens it to ten years imprisonment in Azkaban. The mitigation measure is to place the guilty person in an isolated cell until reaching age of majority. Thank you, the session is over."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>anyone eager to help?  i need someone fluent in both english and polish to translate it. as you can see... i try, but I don't know english so well to catch all mistakes. And Google Translate doesn't help at all! traitor... You know how it translated "sane"? Readable... like hell. Because, yeah, it indeed sounds similar to read (poczytalny, czytelny), but... come on! or another one! what has handcuffs to do with busy? i don't know, but Google Translate sure does.<br/>I'm really grateful for your kudos and comments, thank you.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Horrifying reality that we've created ourselves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Remus Lupin. A werewolf. A former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Scamp. Sleepwalker. Beloved friend. Many terms suit this particular person, but today he could speak of himself as "bringing Hiobe's news."* With hesitantly painted on his tired face, he stands in front of Grimmauld Place 12 door. He just stares at the unspecified point for a moment, then finally enters with a hard beating heart.</p>
<p>The corridor is empty. He doubts that anyone should be at home except Sirius and Kreacher; members of the Order of the Phoenix probably have not yet returned from the Ministry of Magic, still discussing the harmful judgment. The number of those who still fights by Dumbledore's side is constantly decreasing for an obvious reason - it's hard to believe the return of You-Know-Who, since nothing is happening. Life in the wizarding world is normal, except for two disturbing incidents: the opening of the Chamber of Secrets three years ago and the current trial of Harry Potter. Actually, sentencing an innocent boy to Azkaban for ten years, which sounds like a death sentence for such a sensitive boy. Remus wanted to go to the judges and tell them that Harry is the calmest boy in the world with his heart in the right place, but then he stated that the testimony of a close relationship with the werewolf could only hurt, so he gave up. And now he can't forgive himself.</p>
<p>"Sirius?" A quiet question echoes in the empty house.</p>
<p>He doesn't have to wait long for an answer. First there is the crash of a falling chair, and then Padfoot appears in the corridor, stumbling over his own feet and barely balancing. He stops at the sight of the grim Lupin's face.</p>
<p>"So...?"</p>
<p>"Unfortunately."</p>
<p>"That's impossible."</p>
<p>"The defense line has chosen the wrong strategy. Eventually..."</p>
<p>"No. It is impossible."</p>
<p>"You have to accept it.</p>
<p>"Hah... Tell me how, for the fuck' sake?!</p>
<p>"It's just... It's not easy for me either!"</p>
<p>"Yeah? It certainly doesn't look like that!</p>
<p>"Sirius..."</p>
<p>There is silence after this desperate request. Black just stands there. Lupin looks at him pleadingly. The clock is ticking quietly.</p>
<p>"Where the hell is Dumbledore?" Sirius' voice sounds like the quiet growl of an enraged predator.</p>
<p>"Still in the Ministry. Sirius, you need to calm down..." Remus' words are interrupted by the appearance of the Order of the Phoenix with Dumbledore at the forefront. They enter the house, discussing loudly.</p>
<p>Everything happens instantly. Sirius begins to accuse him, and the vague answers of the Hogwarts directors incite Black so much that he attacks the older wizard. Spell flashes and Sirius ends at the opposite wall pinned by the invisible force. Kingsley points his wand at him with trembling nostrils.</p>
<p>"How could you?!" Sirius repeats these words in a weaker and weaker voice until it becomes a whisper disappearing amongst Mrs. Weasley's sobbing and other wizards shouting.</p>
<p>Remus is only able to look at the desperate Padfoot, although his heart is gripped by unimaginable regret. Why is fate such a lousy son of a bitch?</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Severus Snape leans heavily against the wall in the headmaster's office, waiting for him to return from the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. The clocks strike a steady rhythm, and the Potions Master sinks into gloomy thoughts.</p>
<p>Finally, the fireplace flames burn green and its owner appears in the office. Dumbledore dusts off the silver robes, though probably only out of habit, because no ash or other dirt can be seen on them.</p>
<p> "Severus."</p>
<p>Dumbledore first approaches the empty perch of Faweks and continues, with his back to Snape:</p>
<p>"What brings you here?'</p>
<p>"What do you think?" Severus says bitterly. His face does not betray emotions, only his eyes shine with a strange glow. "I promised her I'd protect him." The voice is cold and dry, but at the same time full of emotions that have never been spoken aloud. "I' ve trusted you, Albus."</p>
<p>"I am perfectly aware of your devotion, what is more, I value it very much," Dumbledore says all this without looking at Snape, puts his hand on a wooden perch and gently strokes it with his fingertips. "What happened in the courtroom today... couldn't be predicted, Severus. You know that the plan was different."</p>
<p> "Plan!" Snape sarks with mockery. "It was predictable that the Dark Lord would get involved, try to mess it up! How could you let this happen?"</p>
<p>  "You know, Severus..." Dumbledore finally turns around with the face of a defeated man. "Maybe it will be better this way."</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>"Ron!" Hermione calls, running after the tall redhead who is climbing the stairs angrily. "Wait a second! It's not like that...!" Shee grabs his wrist, but Ron breaks free, narrowing his eyes as she looks offended at him.</p>
<p>"You stubborn ass! Listen to what I have to say for once!" Hermione raises her voice in desperation.</p>
<p>"Yeah?" Ron snaps, frowning angrily. "Will you tell me again that it's my fault Harry got to Azkaban? Why should I listen to this? Your bullshit accusations?!"</p>
<p> "They're not bullshit!" Hermione automatically defends her position. Then she adds in a gentler tone:</p>
<p> "Just listen to me... okay? "The last word is an uncertain whisper. Ron just looks at her, so encouraged Hermione continues.</p>
<p>  "We've all seen something wrong with Harry... but I think you shouldn't be saying Harry probably killed Ginny."</p>
<p>  "Don't you dare say her name!" Ron growls, his face red with anger. "She didn't deserve this fate!"</p>
<p>"And did I mention anything about it?! I've also lost someone important, she was important to me!" Tears shine in Hermione's eyes.</p>
<p>"But not as important as for me! And Harry... As the only one had a chance to prevent it... He had the chance to save my sister," he says painfully. "But he didn't! And it is because of him that..." his voice breaks, he cannot say aloud that his sister is dead.</p>
<p>  "But that's not the reason to...! Ugh!" she screams in frustration. "You really had to put it off before Wizengamot?"</p>
<p> "All the facts could be relevant!"</p>
<p>  "Doesn't it really bother you that your best friend has ended in Azkaban? IN AZKABAN, RON! Do you realize how it is there?" Hermione's cheeks are flushed with emotions tugging at the girl.</p>
<p>"Maybe he deserved it!" Ron's scream is loud and wakes Mrs. Black, who starts to yell from behind the portrait's curtains.</p>
<p>"You... Do you really think so?" Hermione asks her question quietly, as if she didn't want to be heard because she was frightened by the possible answer.</p>
<p>"And you do not? You said it yourself, in the courtroom, I heard, that Harry had a motive. So don't play the innocent! And stop blaming just me!"</p>
<p>Hermione backs down a step, as if she had been slapped. She stares at Ron for a moment with hurt in shining eyes, then turns and walks away as far as possible from him.</p>
<p>"Tsk, tsk, tsk, little brother" say the twins, apparating out of nowhere.</p>
<p>"Piss off," Ron growls and runs upstairs, stomping loudly. After a while, there is a loud slam of the door from the room of the youngest of the Weasleys, and the twins exchange worried glances.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The Azkaban building is a dead lump of stones on an empty island without life. Soaring towers disappearing in thick clouds, windows obscured by heavy bars, barren ground and this boundless feeling of despair that can be felt even in the bones.</p>
<p>That is Harry's impression of the best kept wizard prison when he looks at the bleak building for the first time. Magically handcuffed, he is led out of the boat that he came here and slowly walks along a narrow path among the bare rocks towards his destiny.</p>
<p>The air here is moist, and the terrifying breath of Dementors brings the smell of something rotten. Hooded demons lurk in the dark when Harry is escorted by guards. Maybe it's just the imagination of a terrified boy, but Harry could swear that they all look at him with a greedy look that disgusts him with fear so terrible that he couldn't describe it in words.</p>
<p>
  <em>What do you have your imagination for?</em>
</p>
<p>Harry wants to groan in his head.</p>
<p><em>I thought you gave up and that at least here I would have peace.</em> He's really sick of Voldemort in his head. But really, really, really... he had enough.</p>
<p>
  <em>And miss out all the fun?</em>
</p>
<p> Harry rolls his eyes and focuses on his surroundings, trying to ignore Riddle's laugh.</p>
<p>Before the gate he stops for a moment, the guards who brought Harry discuss something with those guarding the entrance, so Harry seizes the opportunity and looks up at the sky. How much would he give to see at least one beautiful star for the last time. The deep blue sky dotted with millions of sparks teeming with life and hope. Instead, the only thing he sees is the thick gray clouds.</p>
<p>
  <em>I can show you the stars. Just fall asleep and I will show you whatever you want.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You still here?</em>
</p>
<p><em>My little wizard</em> , he says with amusement. <em>I will be here forever.</em></p>
<p>The guards are finally ending the discussion with a burst of laughter and Harry is crosses the Azkaban gate for the first time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*not sure if this phrase is used in English, but it's from the Bible and means horrible (very horrible) news. In Poland we have a lot sayings from Bible and Greek Mythology like you can say "math is my Achilles heel" meaning you just suck at math or "paniczny strach (panic fear)" is from Pan's scream. there's a lot of them. </p>
<p>thank you for all wonderful comments, few people were so lovely that they read NG in polish using Google Translate, I really appreciate it &lt;3 <br/>between the first scene in this chapter and the rest is like a half year break, because I lost heart to writing, I hope there isn't too big gap. now, it only gets better (not for Harry, but more interesting). I love this story because I could show, what Harry will become. <br/>I'll try to update more regular, gonna finish NG and go back to my "Symphony of souls" ^^ have a lovely night (or a day)!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A never ending illusion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>long time no see, huh? i'm still not satisfied that it doesn't sound as creepy as in original, I mean... not creepy at all *sad face*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His cell is relatively small. To get here he had to walk thousands of winding stairs smelling of damp stone and salt, accompanied by two Aurors behaving like statues, looking everywhere but at Harry. He is protected from escaping from the cell by a shiny barrier on a metal door and heavy hancuffs that block magic; thanks to them all of Harry's magic is locked in his body like in a cage, unable to emerge into the outside world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The memory of his wand still hurts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> The memory of his great friend being broken into two.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The snippy official first said that with a sentence comes expellment from Hogwart, and then he simply broke it. In half. There were only a few sparks, his friend's last cry, and Harry's incredulous glare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no grand ceremony, just in the privacy of a ministerial hall where no one else could see it, without any special formulas - Harry's wand was destroyed and its remains were not returned to him, but thrown into the fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would like to have the same luxury as Hagrid - keep at least some of it. Not that he intended to use it, but maybe somehow it would just cheer him up in a place as cold and scary as Azkaban.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't feel the dementors that much at first. He feels their presence, this terrifying feeling like a web of ice twisting his heart, but it is not as insistent and overwhelming as he expected. Maybe because there are still a lot of people around - they are working out the barriers in his cell. They leave clothes for change and show where the food tray appears twice a day. Then they leave and Harry is left alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stares at a small, barred window the size of an open hand; through which you can see only the gloomy ocean stretching around. He stares at them until the dementor's slimy lips appear behind the bars. He doesn't dare to do that anymore. He also can't help but get the feeling that rotten lips were stretched into the world's most terrifying smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shudders at the mere thought and hides in a thin blanket on the bunk, pulling it over his head and closing his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time goes by slowly. Blunt staring at the wall, eating breakfast, blunt staring at a wall, dinner, sleep, and the next morning is diversified by an icy shower.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stands naked, shaking and moving  his bare feet. The shower turns itself off, and Harry dresses in a set of identical robes as the day before, stinking of chemicals instead of sweat. He studies the coarse fabric with no color, and with a sigh exits the industries, the private bathroom (oh, the luxury) to the waiting guard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do I have a separate toilet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Auror doesn't even look at him, but starts climbing the stairs - Harry's magical shackles force him to follow him. Guards never answer his questions, they hardly look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates walking in the corridors of Azkaban. Fortunately, they don't venture into the cells of inmates who are maddened by the influence of the dementors, they don't even lead him to the place where any cells are, but Harry hears them anyway. Their moans, screams and wails. People whose minds have been devoured by fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes in the corridor (narrow, full of damp and that terrible musty smell) a dementor passes by. Usually he stands or glides slowly and it looks as he’s staring at Harry curiously. Harry can't help but feel that the Dementors have a strange interest in him. He shudders as soon as he thinks about how their eyes seem to follow him, watch as if they are waiting for something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His cell didn't change in the few minutes he was taking a shower; Harry walks in, relieved that he no longer has to put up with the closeness to the dementors. He lays down on the hard bed and closes his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since he is in Azkaban, his head is silent. Voldemort has yet to speak once. Harry cannot tell exactly how much time it is. He knows he's been imprisoned for a few days, but the countdown to his sentence is pointless. After all, there is nobody to return to. Anyway ... he'll probably go crazy before being released.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Scratching wakes him. As if a long, sharpened fingernail was sliding across the glass. Slowly and annoyingly, injuring sensitive ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But no one is there. A faint glow of sunlight hidden with clouds shines through the tiny window, but he can't see the fingernail or its owner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry gets up, shuffles around the cell a little and lies down again. What is he supposed to do here? He's tempted to ask the guard for some books. When he goes to the shower in two days, he will do so, he thinks as he falls asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The darkness envelops like a warm cocoon of delicate silk. It's quite a nice feeling, until it doesn’t feel like the dark's tentacles are tightening their grip on his throat. The soft fingers of darkness are amazingly strong and Harry cannot breathe for a moment. His mind swirls, unable to crystallize, and his breath gets stuck in his throat, causing Harry to choke. He wakes up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's dark in his cell. There is no one. Only he. Only Harry. At first glance, because if you look closely ... a hand is sticking out from under the bed. Pale, bruised with uneven, dirty fingernails. Harry swallows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He is afraid to get up, so he tucks his legs under him and stays like that for a while. When he opens his eyes, his arm is no longer sticking out. This time it is a girl's body with a hole in the abdomen with uneven edges. Ginny moves her mouth as if to say something, but for some reason she can’t. Harry watches her from his seat. Ginny's tongue is torn out, Harry wants to sob in frustration.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hides his face in his lap and when he lifts it, Ginny is still lying there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever he does, she's there. She lies down and moves her mouth like a fish that dies without water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it!” he screams in space and looks for the dementor who should be responsible for these hallucinations. But no one is there. There is only Harry and Ginny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop... that's enough…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All night Harry sits staring at the naked body of the girl, at her insides torn apart by sharp claws and moving lips with the tongue torn out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wakes up with a rapidly beating heart. His breakfast is on the table. Ginny has disappeared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Relieved, he stands up, ignores the bloodstain on the floor (These are hallucinations, he repeats to herself, hallucinations) and tries to eat, but every bite is like a colorless slush that is only disgusting, so he returns everything to a bucket that surely should serve a different purpose. Magic removes the dirt immediately, and Harry collapses to the ground, pressing his heated forehead against the cold stone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through the window, the dementor is watching him. And Harry just stares at the bloodstain and the torn out tongue that still twitches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's an illusion, nothing but a mere hallucination…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daylight changes nothing. The overwhelming cold is a contrast to Harry's feverish body, who does not have the strength to get up from the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn't really exist, it doesn't... It doesn't! You don't exist!” he screams to the bloodstain on the floor  and starts crying. Everything disappears as soon as he closes his eyes. When he opens them, everything starts anew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The high vault is completely covered with fresh blood. Harry knows this sight from somewhere. He opens his eyes in horror to see Ginny as she opens and closes her mouth as she fights for the life that’s escaping from her. But this Ginny doesn't have a hole in her stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looks around. Everything is steeped in the hot blood of a dead basilisk, and from his carcass, Harry finally realizes where he is. The Chamber of Secrets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's here again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's a dream, an illusion..." he repeats stubbornly in a whisper. “But why is it all so real?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks around in panic, looking for dementors. All he can see are the serpent statues, one big of Salazar, a lot of blood and Ginny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't even approach her. It's an illusion. It wouldn't make sense anyway. Ginny is dead. She's gone. Gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You definitely grew up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry turns sharply towards the voice. Tom Riddle is leaning against a pillar (perhaps the only one that is not stained with blood) and smirks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You no longer throw yourself to the rescue like a Gryffindor idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Harry ignores the pinch, too focused on Voldemort himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Tom,” he says boastfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nice to see you too, my little wizard." Voldemort continues to play his game. “Although we've already established that you have grown up... Should I stop calling you that? Hmm...? What do you think about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me?” he sounds surprised. “I'm not here, little wizard. This is your world, your fears. You tell me: what am I doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I-I-I don't know..." Harry tries to understand in a panic what is happening, but his head is blank and his hands are starting to tremble with emotion, fear. “I don't want to…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really!” Tom pushes off the column and steps closer. “Going back to that pathetic side of the Boy Who Lived?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm sick of it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”  Tom raises an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest, which only piss Harry of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Damn yeah! I've had enough! This... all this! You, dementors, Ginny! Why can't she leave me alone? She is dead! What did I do to her? I really wanted to save her! I wanted to!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don't you know it's not nice to lie so ugly?” Voldemort bends down and picks something up from the ground; Harry can't see what it is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I ... It's true, really!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Hm?” The second question is a hum vibrating among the high walls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry tries to collect his thoughts, wipes his sweaty hands on his robes (why is he wearing a Hogwarts uniform?) and shifts from foot to foot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You," he says uncertainly. “Or maybe me?” he adds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So if you will know... '' Voldemort takes out his wand and points it at Harry's throat. ”Be sure to inform me,” He ends with a twinkle in his eye and a flash of a torture spell that strikes Harry's chest with full force, sending him to the dirty blood on the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Strangely, Harry doesn't feel any pain. He looks around and tries to orientate himself for a moment. Ginny's not here. Ginny's body is gone. There is no blood. He's in a cell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Breathe, Harry," he says to himself. “Inhale and exhale…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the distance you can hear someone's terrifying screams, a woman is tearing her throat with an unnaturally high voice, begging for mercy, whining that she did not want to kill her son.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry wants to tear his hair out of his head. How much time has passed? What time of day is it? Outside the window it is gray as usual; regardless of the time of day, it is gray, only at night there is blackness, merging with the cloaks of dementors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets up from the bed, feeling his bones creak. He stubbornly does not look in a certain place. He knows Ginny wasn't there, she wasn't really lying on the floor of his cell. But to be on the safe side, he doesn't look over there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't know what to do with himself. If he sat idle like this, he would really go crazy. The woman continues screaming and Harry dreams of turning off his hearing. Someone else's suffering is not his problem.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, he lies down on his back and starts doing sit-ups. One, two, three. One, two, three. And replay. And all over again. Anything just not to think  ang go crazy. He has to find a purpose to survive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tired and drenched in sweat, he falls on the bed. He exhales with relief - this is what he wanted to achieve. Do not think. And experience it somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Purpose of life..." he mutters into the mattress. “What could I want? What have I ever wanted?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do I want?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to meet Sirius, hug him and say that he understands now, he so much understands the pain of his godfather. Maybe they could fly to those warm countries that Padfoot was visiting when he was hiding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to get out of here. Escape.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to retrieve his wand and treat every dementor he encounters with the patronus spell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants this damn woman to finally stop moaning for her son.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants them all to shut up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to shout in Ron's face what he thinks of him. And Hermione too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to slap Dumbleore and then ask: why.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to destroy this stupid system that make innocent people suffer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He want peace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to get out of here, no matter what means he has to use.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And although he wants it all, he does nothing. He doesn't get his hopes up, he just stares at the ceiling, thinking about a meaningless life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Long, pale fingers gently stroke the snake's head, if Nagini were a cat she would certainly purr satisfied - but being a reptile, she only occasionally sticks out her forked tongue and hiss softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "My lord..." Lucius Malfoy is kneeling in front of the chair, his head bowed humbly and not meeting Voldemort's bloody eyes. A small office is lit only by a few candles, and the air is filled with the scent of dusty books and strong red wine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Dark Lord does not respond to the greeting, he just waits for the blonde wizard to get up from his knees and start talking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "Potter made it to Azkaban as instructed by you, my lord."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets a nod for the answer and that's it. Malfoy just stands there for a moment, silent, waiting for him to answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "My lord... If it is possible..." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort looks up at the rest of the rest and sets aside the book he is reading.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Was it really a wise move?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “What do you mean by that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucius swallows loudly and licks his thin lips. Voldemort's tone leaves no room for doubt - if he doesn't like his answer, Lucius will bitterly regret it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I mean Azkaban will soon cease to exist."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort only raises an eyebrow, so Malfoy continues, choosing his words carefully:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm talking about the attack on Azkaban and getting the dementors on our side…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This answer only makes the Dark Lord grin, but there is no trace of amusement or kindness in it, as the smile disappears as quickly as it appeared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  “Did I ever mention the attack on Azkaban?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ Well… No, but ... it's obvious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Obvious, you say?” Voldemort stands up and lets the long robe fall to the soft carpet. He slowly walks over to the confused man and, with cold fingers, lifts his chin so that their eyes meet. "And that's why we won't do it, Lucius. Have you forgotten that for now we're operating in hiding? There's no need to sow unnecessary panic amongst peaceful wizards, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucius nods chaotically and too eagerly, and Voldemort lifts his fingers with a satisfied smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "Then what about the Death Eaters who are there? They served you faithfully, my lord.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no use for them yet. When the plan begins... then we set them free.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Dark Lord sighs and opens a thick book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything else?” He looks at Malfoy, who is standing still with no intention of leaving the office. Voldemort knows this is Lucius's office and his home, but he is irritated by the constant presence of the owner. After all, he came here to investigate a matter. And he wants to do it as soon as possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>  "Potter," he just chokes out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What's with him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why was it so important that he went to Azkaban and not to Nurmengard?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Dark Lord just smiles mysteriously and tells Lucius to go away. When the door closes, he lowers himself silently into his armchair and stretches like a cat basking in the sun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don't understand this fascination, Tom. He's just an ordinary kid.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagini raises her heavy head and looks at the yellowed pages of the book about the dementors. The engraving on which the book is opened shows a dying, wrinkled creature.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he has potential. Like coal that takes time and effort to become a diamond. The most valuable in the collection.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>no, I don't know when next's gonna happen. it's a suprise.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Hope has died</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The days merge into one monotonous passage of time, sometimes Harry cannot tell the difference between night and morning. Everything seems the same: just as tedious, just as terrifying... as if every second wanted to suck out of  him as much free will as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today is no different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The morning meal is a bland oatmeal, but Harry's life with the Dursleys has taught him that anything can be edible, so he swallows the wet pulp with enthusiasm, everything to silence the loud rumble of his stomach. The empty bowl disappears (as usual) and Harry stretches, waiting for the guard to come - today is hygiene day and Harry will finally be able to wash off all those horrible human secretions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guard comes a few minutes after the empty breakfast dishes disappear. Dressed in a dark robe and a wand at the ready, with the deathly face of a tired man, he removes the magic barrier and leads Harry down a winding staircase.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What's up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only silence answers him; the guard doesn't even look at him as if he has heard nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What's your name? Man, have mercy, I'm trying not to go crazy here.” He looks desperately at the pale face of the guard. He is a man in his prime, with a straight nose and crow's feet around his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna ignore me? All day?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guard ignores him, of course, and Harry screams in frustration.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Should I start acting aggressively? Then you say one goddamn word to me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only silence answers him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water in the shower is neither warm nor cold, and it makes Harry feel uncomfortable, used to being able to adjust the temperature at will. Yet, he'd rather bathe in icy water than in something that's hard to even classify. Irritating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don't I see other prisoners? “ It's the first thing he says when he comes out of the shower dripping with water and the magical wind slowly dries him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The question hangs in the air as Harry calmly puts on his prison clothes, waiting for an answer that will never come.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guard just steps back, letting Harry pass. Harry walks past him with a grim face and the decision to make that idiot talk someday.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remus Lupin rubs his face with a tired man's sigh. He is sitting on a bench by the ministerial section that issues passes to Azkaban. He’s kneading already a bent pass, waiting for his turn. Time seems to drag on forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Lupin glances at the clock on the wall above the ornate door, it is pointing to the same time it was showing, perhaps more than ten minutes ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighs loudly. His gaze wanders impassively along the empty corridor. Somewhere in the distance you can hear conversations and shouts, but they don't interest Remus; his goal is the door in front.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remus came here with one purpose: to visit Harry and assure him that neither he nor Sirius believed the boy's guilt. Merlin, they hadn't even had such an bizarre thought - Harry had his heart in the right place and he could always choose the so-called "good". Therefore, Remus did not understand the behavior of Harry's two best friends, after all, they should have strong ties …</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought that Harry, the kid who reacted so strongly to the presence of one dementor, is surrounded by these monsters in Azkaban keeps Remus awake at night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remus Lupin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slowly enters a small office and places an application on the official's outstretched hand, who frowns amusingly whenever she sees him, as if she was disgusted. Remus shrugs at it, ignoring the woman's mood, and sits down to wait for the decision.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes of reading, the official looks up from the page and sighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know that you have no chance of getting this visit?”Tired voice sounds as if the woman is even sorry that her interlocutor is such an idiot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not understand. After all, as a full-fledged member of the magical community…” Remus at all costs does not want to let her know how stressed he is. He needs to see Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, yes, yes..." The woman interrupts him and rolls her eyes. "Just... you have to understand, Mr. Lupin... you are a registered werewolf with no source of income. Azkaban is a place with strict surveillance, we can't let you in.” Remus opens his mouth to start arguing, swallow his bloody pride, he is doing it for Harry, but the woman continues. "Plus, that prisoner is a special case. A juvenile murderer with a mental disorder. He spent less than a month in Azkaban... I honestly doubt he is stable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If you are well aware that he is unstable, why the hell did you lock him up there?!" By the end the sentence is just the growl of a furious animal, and Remus gets up from his chair, breathing heavily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman sits frozen for a moment, only opening her eyes wider and wider, but before Remus could say anything else, the Aurors she had summoned run into the office and lead him outside. In the corridor, Remus breaks away and walks away without looking back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a pounding heart and a bitter sense of defeat, he crosses the threshold of house number 12 on Grimmauld Place. He hangs up his old shabby coat and takes off his heavy boots.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remus?” Sirius appears as soon as he hears noises from the hall. “How did it go?” He asks, appearing with a mug of steaming coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lupin just looks at him and without asking he takes the hot mug in his hands and takes a long sip; the boiling water burns his throat, but in a pleasant way. He swallows the bitter taste (Sirius doesn't get sweet) and says:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rejected.” He's trying to stay calm. He takes a sip of coffee again, this time to hide his emotions and not have to look at Sirius' hurt expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let's go sit down... I'll make you sweet coffee and... just tell me about everything.” Padfoot reacts with a strange calmness. He doesn't wait for Moony to answer, just turns and walks away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remus stands with the hot mug for a moment, focusing on the feeling of warming the palms. Sirius' reaction worries him. It is the character of Black, to talk about his thoughts aloud, expressing his feelings emphatically and fighting for his mind. Lupin expected screams, desperate questions, even immature reproaches. But he hadn't expected such a void. Such a lack of emotion. As if Sirius had lost all hope. Remus drags hesitantly into the kitchen, where the kettle whistles high-pitched, and Sirius, wrapped in the scent of freshly ground coffee, looks out the window, his hands resting on the scratched windowsill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Moony makes a coffee and sweetens it with five sugar cubes, additionally sprinkling powdered chocolate. He mixes it all thoroughly with a teaspoon, and does not start drinking until the coffee grounds settle to the bottom and the drink is clear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you say something?” he asks after a long break, when he has already drunk more than half, and Sirius' cup is already cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What exactly?” He asks without looking at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just... anything.” Remus shrugs, though Sirius can't see it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what? Should I shout at you? I know damn well it's not your fault.” Finally, Sirius turns, but still doesn't look quite at Lupin. First, he sets the mug down on the kitchen counter, then sits down in the chair next to Remus's.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just say what you think. Talk to me..</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it were so easy…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know," Remus says calmly and takes Sirius' hand, squeezing lightly. “It will never get easy. After all, this is about our Harry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He won't survive this, Remus," he whispers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lupin can only nod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sit there for a moment, both deeply lost in gloomy thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like scrambled eggs?” Sirius finally asks, breaking the silence. He gets up with a grunt and magic carries the empty cups to the sink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yhym... and another coffee too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sirius laughs softly, but there's no hint of joy in it, it's just a learned response acquired in the affect of living in society.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where are the kids?” Remus asks, referring to Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys who used to animate the empty house. “I can't see Molly either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They said something about Diagon Alley... but I didn't really listen to them." Sirius shrugs, smashing eggs on a hot frying pan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah... It's time for Hogwarts already?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No way. They still had a solid month, they just wanted to breathe for a while,” says Sirius “You think maybe Molly could...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I doubt it.”  Remus shakes his head. "They are really determined that no one visits Harry."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bastards," Sirius mutters, and Remus nods quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry wakes up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. He lies there for a moment, breathing heavily. Only after some time, when his heart is no longer pounding so fast in his chest, is he able to stand up. He notices with disgust that he is drenched in cold sweat all over the place, sticking the fabric of his shirt and trousers to his sticky body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And the shower is only tomorrow…” he sighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything is fine for a moment, but then a cold, tentacle-like haze climbs Harry's sweaty, exposed neck. The boy shudders and jumps back violently. His rapid breathing turns to white vapor and his heart speeds up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dementors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The temperature in the cell drops by a few degrees, or at least Harry feels like it. Lily Potter's screams echo in his head, like a broken tape recorder - distorted sound and the same sequence repeated over and over. Still the same despairing scream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Second by second, the sound grows louder until Harry hears no ringing in his ears. With a cry, he falls to the cold floor and covers his ears with his hands, opening mouth in a silent scream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything stops as suddenly as it began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry lies down for a moment with his eyes closed, but finally stands up and looks around in surprise. Why is he suddenly in the garden? And it is so familiar... He is surrounded by sprawling bushes of white roses with a bland, sweet smell, somewhere far away tall sunflowers sparkle with yellow, and in front of him is Lord Voldemort himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles predatory and squints those red eyes. Harry swallows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Missed me?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>well hello to you too, Tom. missed u a lot, can't say that about Harry though.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 11. In the garden of bloody roses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The bland and heavy scent of roses surrounds Harry, dazzling his senses and taking his sobriety of mind away. That's why he just stares at Voldemort - at his tall, slender form beneath a layer of black robes, a smile stretching the muscles of his face in an unnatural position, and his eyes glistening with blood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you bothering me again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort only blinks irritatingly, while the smile slowly fades to a neutral expression. He spreads his hands as if to say, here I am.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This, my brave little wizard," he pauses for a moment to focus his heavy gaze on Harry, as if searching for something in the boy's frail stature. Apparently he finds it because he nods and continues, “It's reality.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry laughs. It's weird because he thought he'd never be able to again, considering he's been constantly living in a madness of fear lately. But still, this sentence, spoken in such a noble and formal tone of Tom, makes him laugh..</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should I believe you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How big of a fool do you think I am?! Voldemort wants to answer, already opens his mouth with a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue, but Harry decides that he doesn't want to know the Dark Lord's response after all. “Or better not! I am sick of it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Few rays of sunlight shine through the dense leaves of the trees, making Voldemort's skin appear even paler than it really is - devoid of any radiance or life, it looks like wax. That is why that mocking smile that appears on the Dark Lord's lips does not match his face so much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I really..." Harry pauses for a moment, because his emotions take his breath away and only after a few deep breaths of air, he can say resignedly: "...had enough."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your own stupidity?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort's words hit Harry's sore point, make an insanely improbable thought come to him - what if he really is an idiot? After all, his life from the moment he heard the verdict in the courtroom does not make the slightest sense. He could kill himself and no one would care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A split second and Voldemort is beside him, piercingly staring into Harry's empty eyes. The man's arms are lifting heavily and he looks annoyed. The narrow lips are pressed tightly into an even narrower line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you a coward, my little wizard?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What else is left for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Life," comes the simple answer in a sonorous voice. A gentle breeze picks up, the leaves of the trees begin to rustle slightly, and Harry pushes away  stray hair that has fallen into his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're funny. No, but seriously, have you hit your head or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me?” The tone of his statement would suggest that something is wrong with Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We're both fucked up," Voldemort smiles with satisfaction, as if Harry has finally said the right thing, "but that doesn't explain your behavior, Tom. What's your business in this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn't be able to point out just one.” The wizard's eyes flash casually. With any other human, Harry would have sworn it was a pugnacious spark, but it was Voldemort, who was now settling down on the green grass, straightening the flaps of his black robe. “Will you be standing there like that?” he asks. “Sit down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He points to the ground next to him, and Harry can't figure out what's going on here. Really. He would like a simple instruction manual of what to do when the most dangerous wizard of recent years begins to act friendly to you. Any moment and he will be asked to drink some tea and eat cookies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ I can ask for tea if you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could you stop reading my mind?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sighs in exasperation and sits down, keeping a safe distance from Voldemort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, Harry, tell me how do  you find your life in Azkaban? Your impressions? Hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry doesn't want to answer that question, he doesn't want to go back to that terrible place even in his mind. It may be strange and unnatural, but he would rather stay here, having for company a mentally disturbed Voldemort than return to the dementors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Cold," he replies truthfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort raises an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's cold in there. So fucking cold. As if the needles of Siberian frost penetrated every fragment of skin to the marrow of the bones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, nobody likes the cold, but frostbite is a really fascinatingly nasty wound.”  Riddle looks thoughtful in his head, and perhaps for the first time since Harry is in this strange place, he doesn't feel Voldemort's piercing and burning gaze. However, he does not know if this is a change for the better. Besides... for the first time since conviction, Harry's thoughts are free from the dementors' fear instilled in them, the hallucinations and all that madness. His thoughts are clear and the boy's whole body is lighter; as if someone took a few tons of weight off his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry takes a deep breath, enjoying the sounds of nature and the blessing of silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you answer me already?” he asks, finally bored with silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which question?” Voldemort does not even look up, but just stands up and picks the rose in full bloom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why am I here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Roses are nature's most beautiful treasure, don't you think?” Voldemort tears off a maroon petal and lets it slowly fall to the ground like a drop of burning blood. “A symbol of beauty, but also debauchery... It's pleasant to the eye, but in too close contact it can pick them out. The roses are extraordinary and, oh how, how damn precious,”  saying that, he crushes the whole flower into his fist. He opens his hand and a waterfall of fragrant petals spills onto the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course you didn't answer me again," Harry sighs. “But what did I expect? From the murderer? From the murderer, you could expect the slippest answer and a whole bunch of lies! What was I counting on?” He snorts, disappointed at his own stupidity and naivety that made him hope.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We need to talk, Harry About your mania to judge people and that prejudice. Nobody taught you that the world is not that easy? You cannot judge something at first glance, you cannot judge a man by just a few deeds, not knowing who is behind him or what values guide him, what he experienced, whom he met along the way. It cannot be said that these deserve damnation and the others deserve paradise. The world is not white or black, it is not gray - why would people limit themselves to these three colors when there's an entire rainbow at their disposal?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're contradicting yourself!” Harry is indignant, his blood boiling. He has already forgotten his question, his emotions keeping him from thinking about anything else but Riddle's hypocrisy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How so?” brazenly, in Harry's opinion, asks Voldemort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This whole ideology about the purity of blood maybe? You divide wizards into better and worse, stigmatizing Muggle-borns and wanting to murder all Muggles!” He exclaims in one exhalation, red in the face, hands clenched into fists, ready to attack at any moment. The energy is buzzing under his skin, enticing him to react somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me?” Voldemort puts a hand to his heart in a gesture of indignation. “Kill Muggles? What sane master kills a slave fit for work?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you still call them slaves! They’re people too! They have feelings, they are also afraid and they love too!” Harry now feels like a winded-up machine, stimulated with each word from Riddle. And he knows he's being led on, that's an obvious thought lurking in the back of his head, but he just can't sit still as he talks about exterminating people, enslaving them with such... lightness and complete unrepentance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Animals have feelings too. Which does not prevent them from being harnessed to slave labor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry lacks arguments for such an obvious abstraction streaked with the purest stupidity preached by Tom, so he asks a question about another thing:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about the purity of the blood? What? This is an obvious segregation of wizards through the prism of their parents and ancestors,” he ends the sentence with the belief that he has led his interlocutor into a corner, but Voldemort, as always, deftly twists himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's a conversation for a completely different occasion, but now that you've started... Do you really want to defend people who don't believe you? Who released you for their own convenience, kicking you at the end like an unnecessary mongrel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry tries very hard not to show how these words hurt him - because of how true they are. And since he was never too good at hiding emotions, there is a victorious gleam in Voldemort's eyes. Once upon a time, Harry would start arguing, defending his friends, if anyone dared say a single bad word to them. Take the Malfoy for example - a single insult about the purity of Hermione's blood, and Harry and Ron were already fisting each other. Now Harry tries to fight back the tears in his eyes, so he stubbornly doesn't look at Riddle, his eyes skimming over the lush brush and rose bushes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let's change the subject, huh?” He says in a tight voice. Oddly enough, Voldemort doesn't push, instead of pulling the subject and mocking the boy, he just keeps quiet for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both sit in silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the gentle singing of a bird whose species Harry cannot define.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This might sound quite strange to the Boy Who Survived a first-degree encounter with a Killing Curse sent by a wizard sitting quietly in front of him, but Harry automatically wants to thank him for honoring his request. He wouldn't dare say it out loud, but after Voldemort suddenly looks at him understandingly, Harry knows he has read his mind. But it's still weird. To be neutral about the multiple murderer who killed dozens without feeling any remorse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about you tell me the story of the dementors?”A question suddenly arises. Harry looks at Voldemort in surprise that suddenly turns to fear as he remembers the monsters' horrible stature.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In what sense?” He gasps, trying to give the sounds coming from his throat a specific shape, but his voice sounds weak and uncertain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They're cold," the boy begins.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not like that," Voldemort immediately interrupts, looking a bit annoyed by Harry's answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what should I say about them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What are they doing? How are they behaving in Azkaban?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They're spinning. Sniffing. They are patrolling. They enjoy suffering and despair. They are like greedy leeches that want to suck blood and marrow from bones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They don't have any fixed schedule, layout?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “I don't know? They keep hanging around.” Harry starts to wonder why Voldemort needs such knowledge, but decides not to mention it. For now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They don't have any habits?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is a window in my cell, and quite often I see a dementor watching me from behind it. I don't know if it's always the same one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch him.” Voldemort gives the impression that Harry's vague answer tells him a lot, and he looks downright pleased, although more of a mere satisfaction. “Be careful,” he adds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need something to keep yourself from going crazy. A purpose, so let it be as simple and idiotic as the science of the dementors.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And I have to report to you like a little obedient Death Eater?" Voldemort's inquisitive questions ignite a light bulb in Harry's head screaming a red light about possible danger. It is impossible that Voldemort had no purpose whatsoever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You'd make me happy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry snorts at the statement and asks:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so interested in them?” It's really puzzling. Lord Voldemort's interest is never trivial. It always means something more, it hides a cunning plan to destroy humanity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am interested in everything related to magic, and dementors are mysterious creatures about whom little is known. I take the opportunity that I finally have a reliable source of information.” Voldemort seems very pleased with his lie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That's not a lie.” straightens the man. “It's partially concealing some inconvenient facts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn't expect anything else, believe me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle bursts out laughing at this - neither a cackle, nor a loud laugh in the man's deep voice, nor a laugh of sheer madness, just as if something in between, not qualifying for any of the above criteria.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know what, Harry?" he asks casually. “I don't remember the last time I smiled so much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry decides to choose this safe option and remains silent, afraid to answer the question. Such kind and outgoing Voldemort seems even more dangerous than Voldemort in his psychopathic frenzy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You behave differently than in the Chamber of Secrets," says Harry, remembering the last dream-vision with the psychopathic Tom in the lead role.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was a good couple of years ago.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not Chamber, I'm talking about the recent events," Harry clarifies, frowning. Why did Voldemort suddenly choose to play the idiot?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am not playing an idiot, little wizard.” The sharp tone of the voice scares off the birds as they soar into the sky and flee to further trees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry can see that Chamber of Secrets. The blood, the corpse of Ginny and the amused Voldmort. The feeling of fear as Riddle put his wand to Harry's throat...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the silence is broken by Voldemort's deep laugh. Harry looks at him reproachfully, not really understanding these mood swings and the different behaviors of the Dark Lord.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're going crazy, Harry. Azkaban is confusing you”, he explains.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You never understand anything, I have to explain everything to you like a four-year-old child,” growls Riddle. He smiles, but the smile quickly fades from his mouth without reaching cold eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm not...!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tsk, tsk, not interrupt the adults.” Voldemort does not let him speak. Harry exhales from his mouth with a loud whistle, but is not going to give up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don't treat me like a baby. They put me in Azkaban, for the wizarding society I am more than an adult,” he says in one exhalation, carefully watching Voldemort from under narrowed eyes if he dared to interrupt the boy's speech again. “What did you mean? Earlier?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That it was just an illusion. Those events didn't actually happen - it's just a projection of your brain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illusion? So his hallucinations can be so accurate that Harry can't tell them from reality? The very thought gives off unpleasant chills; little needles of fear dig painfully into sensitive skin. But then...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How can I be sure this isn't an illusion?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't," comes the simple answer, but Voldemort doesn't get any attention to Harry's reaction. Instead, he plucks the rose flower again - wonderfully blooming with a rich depth of color - and slowly, systematically and emotionlessly tears off the individual petals with two long fingers and drops them onto the grass, where they join the previously crushed rose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry feels overwhelmed by fear for a moment - how is he going to tell  apart truth, reality, and falsehood and the figments of his fucked up mind?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can promise you," says Voldemort as he continues the devastation of the rose, "that real meetings will always be here. In the garden of blood roses.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Indeed, the broken rose petals on the grass formed a bloody mosaic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could try more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In what sense?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ Stars,  I could use some stars here. An inky night sky dotted with a million stars.” Harry is lost in the vision of the beautiful sky he longs for so much. It's terrible that Azkaban is always full of clouds and Harry can't see the stars. Clouds, clouds, fog and more clouds. Even at the last moment of his freedom, he could not see the stars.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort doesn't answer that question, just looks at Harry thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don't want to share some interesting facts about the dementors? Hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We already talked about it... Don’t you have enough?” Harry sighs. "Why do I have to answer every damn question you have, and yet you choose only the ones that are convenient for you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort's slender and pale face expresses no emotion as he comes so close to Harry that their noses almost touch. Red eyes burn like hellfires.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll answer you," he whispers so softly Harry has trouble hearing anything other than the ringing hiss of syllables. “To me... you are more precious than a rose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry wonders for a moment what Voldemort has just answered him, but it must be his purpose in summoning Harry to the Garden of Blood Roses, as the boy began to call the place. However, he immediately realizes the important thing about this answer. Horror deprives him of his ability to move, so he only swallows loudly, gently opens his mouth, and chokes out:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>” But you destroyed the rose…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then what will you do with me?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he says in his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lord Voldemort smirks, and Harry wakes up in bed with his heart pounding like a bell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First thing that he does is looking with panic around the cell, but the room is quiet and shrouded in a delicate veil of darkness. Exhausted, Harry collapses onto the pillows and puts his arm to his forehead, feeling the warmth emanating from it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cannot understand why he does not feel relief, but only a desperate need to return to a place where there was even a shadow of a chance for rationality and conversation with another human being. Because Harry in Azkaban is slowly being killed by fear and loneliness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he gets up from bed heavily in search of a glass of water. Luckily, there's one left, so she drinks it in one gulp, wipes his wet mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, and turns to the bed, meeting Ginny's bloodshot eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stands alone, her frail posture sharply cut off from the darkness of the room. Fiery hair and a layer of blood all over the body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An eleven-year-old girl slowly raises her tiny hand, and Harry can only stand with his heart pounding and watch his tiny fingers tighten around his neck. The left hand joins right and Harry is running out of breath. After several desperate attempts to breathe, his body wakes up and tries to pull the girl's hands back. But they're cold and slippery, just like a corpse's hands. Harry's fingers slide over the musty blood on the skin of the girl, unable to properly grab and pull Ginny's hands away from his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ginny's smile widens with each second as Harry has less oxygen left over. The breath is wheezing and Harry wants to call the guard or just scream, begging for help, but at this point the fingers on his throat tighten even tighter, surprising him with incredible strength and Harry completely loses access to oxygen.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i'm kinda suprised that this story got so much attention, so here you are - another chapter. one of my personal favorites ^^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Die, get lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The holiday is slowly drawing to a close, the sun softly envelops London's crowded streets in warm light as Hermione slowly makes her way towards Grimmauld Place. With hands in the pockets of a loose hooded sweatshirt and comfortable trousers on her legs, she wanders the quiet streets, inhaling the smell of the approaching autumn. There are two headphones in her ears; a cassette tape signed with an old marker makes pleasant, delicate sounds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione goes aimlessly, remembering the text of an article written by none other than the charming Rita Skeeter. Before her eyes she has a screaming headline in bold, bold print and a terrifying photo of Azkaban's buildings around which dementors glided slowly and sluggishly as if in slow motion. The girl read the text so many times that each word was clearly imprinted in her memory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>According to reports from an anonymous informant (but I can assure you that he is a trustworthy man), Azkaban had a terrible situation recently. As we all know, for less than two months, the sentence for the murder of his Muggle family with particular cruelty (see page 17) is served by the famous Harry Potter (see page 19 - Signs of Potter's Insanity Over the Years). According to the latest information, Mr. Potter was injured, or rather cut himself. The guards and prisoners maintain that during the night he started screaming terrifyingly like a mentally disturbed man. It turns out that Harry Potter tried to commit suicide. Was he feeling guilty? Could this be considered an admission of guilt? Let me remind you that, at the trial, Mr. Potter claimed that he was ordered to be killed by Voldemort in his head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It is well known that Azkaban makes people crazy, but as our expert Dr. Doomey recalls - Potter was mad before. So the most likely explanation is remorse. I know from reliable sources that Potter tried to choke himself - one hand clenched around his throat, the other trying to save himself. Isn't that strange? All this evidence certainly points to Harry Potter's guilt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Currently, Mr. Potter has undergone medical care - according to Azkaban's regulations, he cannot be healed with magic or elixirs, so Mr. Potter's wounds must heal naturally.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I will keep you updated, so subscribe to the Daily Prophet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your Rita Skeeter - reporter with a soul.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every single word of this damned article causes a degree of anger and frustration in Hermione that she was unaware she had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How can you slander another person so much, destroy his image and, above all, his life? In the end, Harry was not sentenced to life - after ten years (Hermione hopes, however, that this whole situation turns out to be an April Fool's joke and Harry is acquitted) he will be released. And then what? The wizarding society will eat him, chew him up and spit him out into the toilet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why don't wizards protect their image like Muggles? Hermione growls mentally, frowning. Skeeter's behavior contradicts all moral values that a person should uphold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione snorts loudly, and a homeless cat escapes from a nearby dumpster, knocking over an uneaten can of tinned fish, which clinks to the pavement. The cat is hiding behind blue garbage bags. The girls stops and, after a moment of reflection, extends a hand towards the pet. A nice gesture scares the cat even more, which nimbly jumps over the fence and disappears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I wouldn't do anything to you," she says a bit reproachfully, because she really wanted to pet the cat, then walks out onto the main street. She is surrounded by the noise of rushing people and the loud drone of cars like the roar of an angry animal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She has no idea what to do with herself so she heads towards Grimmauld Place, though she really doesn't want to be there right now. As soon as she thinks about those horrible, false hypocrites who would most likely have sentenced Harry to the guillotine, she feels anger as if boiling water is bubbling through her veins. These people considered themselves Potter's friends, even more,  for his family, or at least a substitute for it. How could they so easily and without problems doom him to losses and let go?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Inside the old house, she is greeted with a musty smell of dust that refuses to disappear despite persistent cleaning. In the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley is cooking a delicious-smelling dinner, and Ron is probably sitting in his room again, offended by the whole world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione will probably spend the whole evening with the book again, or will talk to Sirius about Harry (if Black will be sober enough). She hopes Professor Lupin will come by today, at least her mind would be busy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning!” she shouts to the kitchen. She leaves as soon as she hears the identical answer and immediately directs her steps to the small library of the Black family.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she glides the tip of her finger over the dusty backs, she hears footsteps approaching and hushed male voices that become clearer with each passing second.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Acting instinctively, driven by the adrenaline and habit of adventures at Hogwarts, she hides behind a bookcase and watches through gap as Albus Dumbledore enters the room, followed by Severus Snape.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So the reports are true?” Dumbledore asks the question with a sigh, staring at the view through the small window. Snape is leaning against the wall with his arms folded. At first he is silent, just stares hard at the Headmaster, then says in a low voice:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Potter tried to kill himself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione's heart is squeezed with regret, almost forgotten that the men can hear her, so she must cover her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound of terror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does your informant know more?” Dumbledore's voice is soft but sure, revealing no emotion, even if it tugs at the elderly wizard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing more than what was written in the newspapers. He tried to choke himself while trying to save himself how fuckrd up it wouldn't sound.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are both silent for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The Dark Lord has become more and more interested in Azkaban lately," Severus says, and Hermione pricks her ears as she moves closer to hear the details. “And... dementors he’s looking for any books related to them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You will do as I tell you, Severus," Dumbledore says, and Snape stiffens at this clear command. "We have to find out what's going on, so look for some books about dementors here... The Black Library should abound in dark books. And when you give them to him, try to ask him about his plans, what he is looking for, so that you can look for other books.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snape looks relieved. Hermione frowns. If Voldemort is looking for something, it can't be any good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dumbledore is already leaving the room when Snape asks in a harsh voice:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about Potter?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about Harry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what they did to him after this incident, after all, it’s standard procedure. The boy is probably wounded and chained to bed. You're not gonna do anything about it? It's your pet after all.” Snape wouldn't be Snape if he didn't add venom and contempt to his speech.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"There is nothing I can do, Severus. It is important that Harry is safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Safe," Snape snorts. "Safe, but in a few months he will be gone, the dementors will destroy him without even touching his soul."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Dumbledore is long gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione stands paralyzed for a moment. Harry is bedridden? How will he be gone? How is that  nothing can be done? The girl's lips begin to tremble, her eyes sting dangerously, she wipes them with her fists - this is not the time for tears. He has to do something. She can’t just  stand passively like these adults.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lost in thought, she almost gets caught by Snape searching the shelves. Hermione steps silently towards the door, taking advantage of the Potions Professor's back is turned and he is busy flipping through a thick book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gently opens the door, still holding her breath. She runs through the corridor and breathes a sigh of relief only on the stairs. She takes a couple of deep breaths and slides down the wall, sitting down in the middle of the stairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She just lost faith in humanity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How can they be such a soulless bastard?” she mumbles under her breath. But she won't leave it like that. She would get Harry out of Azkaban, even if her grades were to suffer, even if she were to end up there herself. She cannot leave a friend in need.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’ll do it. You don’t  mess with Hermione Granger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry's throat feels dry - it burns and throbs with a dull pain. When he opens his eyes, he is greeted by the sight of a dark ceiling. He tries to reach his neck with his fingers, to see why it hurts so much, but meets resistance. His heart stops for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have no hands?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he thinks in panic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He jerks his limbs again, more and more chaotic and using more force. He clenches his fingers into fists, confirming that he has them after all. The cold wave of relief doesn't last long, because as Harry tries to get up and see what's blocking his hands, he discovers that he can't do it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was chained to bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magic bonds prevent him from lifting his body, he can only slightly tilt his head away from the mattress. From the corner of his eye  he tries to look at his hands - handcuffed to the metal tubes of the bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels bad, terrible, terrible, as if a plow ran over him, and then Voldemort treated him to a series of Cruciatus, and on top of that he had an unbearable migraine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry tries to remember what led to this deplorable situation, but his memory is cloudy and unclear. If he remembers correctly, he talked to Tom. He talked to him for a long time in a world created by a mind that wanted to escape this madness, so it created unreal illusions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he woke up. Yes, he must be awake, but he doesn't remember what to do next. He doesn't remember until the image of Ginny flashes before his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloody Ginny; she is so skinny that the bones can be seen through the thin skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Go away..." groans Harry. He is terrified by the thought that there is no escape, no way to defend himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, somewhere in the back of the head there is a thought that this is just an illusion, but washed out of positive feelings and any sense of security, Harry believes his eyes completely and starts to jerk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You'll alert the guards with this scuffle.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tom!” Relief floods Harry. If Tom joined him, Ginny wouldn't hurt him. He does not know where this thought came from, where this trust came from, but he desperately clings to it as a last resort. However, the possibility that Tom's voice is that imaginary thing has a high probability, after all, the real Voldemort promised Harry that the meetings in the rose garden are the real ones. As for Voldemort's voice in his head, Harry is not sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You missed me so much?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words are saturated with mockery, but Harry's eyes are filled with tears of relief, finally his suffering will end - even if only for a moment. So he lowers his hands and lies still, but keeps his eyes on Ginny. And she also looks at him with the empty eyes of a corpse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Get her out of here," he says desperately. “Do something with her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I already killed her. What else do you want?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort laughs softly as he talks about the girl's death.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you killed her, why is it me who she can’t leave alone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My brave little wizard</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he says with tenderness, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this girl's body rot a long time ago, it's just a fucking illusion, so stop acting like a kid and face her! </span>
  </em>
  <span>With each word, Voldemort's voice sharpens to finally become a rebuke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Face the nightmares otherwise they'll eat you up. They won't leave even a scrap of meat on your skeleton.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Harry finally gets the courage to look at the specter, Ginny is still standing there. She smiles innocently as dirty blood slowly trickles from the corner of her mouth, dripping onto the floor with a gentle splash.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> "It has not disappeared," he complains, wanting to croak again like a little child. He wants this to end so badly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The simplest solution would be your death, do you realize?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Harry replies. ”But I don't want to die.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No," he says firmly. “I want to be released.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you want revenge? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tom's usually calm voice is controlled by excitement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry clenches his fist on the matte blanket and stares at the empty ceiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no strength for revenge... I just want to see the stars again.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>check out my other tomarry ff, Symphony of souls, it's just starting ^^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. A foretaste of death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>one of the darkest chapters so far, be aware</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The days drag on forever and Harry can only stare at the boring ceiling and expect the arrival of the dementors. Because as they come, bringing with them coldness and that slimy kind of fear, Harry's thoughts spin as the boy tries to distract himself from the hallucinations and terrible events repeated in his head like in a loop. At these moments the only salvation is Voldemort's steady voice. And when he's gone, Harry can only cry from helplessness, lost in the abyss of despair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Salvation finally comes and the ties that bind Harry to his bed disappear. The wound on the neck is almost healed, but it does not bring any relief, since there are burns on the wrists from the handcuffs, their magic sometimes made them red hot and burned flesh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry hesitantly puts his feet on the cold floor, trying to suppress the irrational fear that he had forgotten how to walk. He stretches with relief; his bones creak, long unused. He looks at the bed, covered in urine and stinking sweat, in disgust and nausea. He must use the shower. For this purpose, he starts looking for a guard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walks slowly, relishing the cold under his feet, to a heavy door with iron bars at the top. He stands on tiptoe to peek down the corridor, expecting to find a bored guard there, probably propped up against the wall and dozing off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, there is no man there. Instead, a hooded figure stands in the shadows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry doesn't notice it at first - the black cloak and hood blend so closely with the shadow falling on the wall. Movement betrays it; strangely fluid, as if levitating in the air. It is thanks to that that Harry notices the details: that the cape is frayed, that the hood covers the face completely, that unnaturally long fingers protrude from under the long sleeves with curved black nails.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dementor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if in reaction to the thought, the creature turns abruptly towards Harry; the folds of the cloak flutter as if torn by the wind. In three seconds, the dementor is right next to the bars, keeping his mouth close to Harry's face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lichen hands raise the hood and Harry swallows, staring at the monster's hideous face. Into empty eye sockets covered with thin membranes, unhealthy and slime-covered skin, and finally into a maw as dark as the very abyss of hell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stands still, feeling the delicate needles of ice crawl up his skin. He cannot stop staring at the dark opening in the dementor's face; a place by which he can drain the very soul of a person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The longer Harry stares at it, the more he is sure that it is not just a black hole - a soft and subtle light flickers deep inside, its glow dampened by the darkness of the dementor. It pulsates like the dying heart of a bird of paradise, giving the impression of a very delicate thing, capable of turning to dust at the slightest touch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cold becomes more severe; now it's freezing Harry's fingertips, which he finally tears off the bars. He takes a step back, his eyes never leaving the Demenoter, who tilts his head slightly, as if he were staring at Harry and yet he has no eyes; the empty eye sockets of the dementor are covered only by a strange velum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The legs somehow get tangled and Harry falls, surprised by the weight of his own body. The dementor is still standing at the door. It just stands like an abandoned, sinister puppet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cold turns into floating memories - the needles of ice destroy everything good, leaving nothing but bitter words and painful betrayals. Thousands of thoughts, thousands of past events; everything merges into one chaotic sequence. The images press in with destructive force, and Harry can only recreate the worst events of his life over and over again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stares blankly at the ceiling, lying in the cold. His body jitters in spasms at times, and saliva drips from the corner of his mouth. Harry can no longer see the Dementor, but he can feel his presence in every inch of his chilled body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kaleidoscope of memories is endless - Harry sees his parents dying, Ginny covered in blood, Ron moving away from him more and more with each passing day, Hermione's distraught gaze. All this eventually overwhelms him, tears trickle down from his eyes, and his eyes close with exhaustion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He is awakened by screams. Loud and urgent. Sharp and resonant like bells; and and just like them they’re ringing in Harry's ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry's first reaction is to frown and roll over, wanting to fall back to sleep. Despite sleep, he is still exhausted - the dementor seems to have sucked all his energy out of him. A strong kick in the ribs prevents him from doing so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry opens his eyes, exhaling sharply from his mouth. There are burning tears in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What...?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get up!” A loud male voice sounds. Harry is about to cry from happiness. It had been a long time since he had heard a real human voice, one that wasn't the scream of a maddened prisoner of Azkaban. Relief is like a bucket of cold water - Harry finally feels himself thinking soberly after a very long break. If only he had any idea how illusory this feeling is...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry gets up as fast as he can, his bruised ribs making themselves felt in excruciating pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What's happening?” He asks in a slightly hoarse voice. His hand travels to his throat, which still has dark marks - how long has he not used his voice fully? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No time to talk, Potter." A tall guard Harry doesn't know grabs his arm tightly and lifts him to a standing position, making Harry stagger slightly and hiss in pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You were sentenced to death," says nonchalantly the guard who usually accompanied Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The heart stops for two seconds and then starts beating at an insane pace. A cold sweat seeps across Harry's feverish brow as he just stares at the guard with a heavy and somewhat irrational sense of betrayal. After all, how would this guardian betray him? By doing his damn job?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Dumbledore who had betrayed Harry by letting them send him here. To Hell itself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We don't have all day, Potter! Move!” The sharp tip of the wand is pressed against his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is the point of threatening me if I am going to die anyway?” he asks bitterly. It's strange how quickly he came to terms with his own fate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't talk, just go," the guard growls, whom Harry starts to call a Douchebag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry does not get handcuffed - the only form of restraint is a wand against his throat and the occasional pushes to make him walk faster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They take Harry outside. The wind blows strong here, and raging waves hit the rocky coast. Harry looks hopefully at the sky, but it's daytime, and all the blue is covered with gray clouds from which a soft drizzle drips. Not a single star is visible. Dementors cloaks fly around, all of which together create a picture from a horror movie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry slides on the damp rocks, but the guard's firm grip keeps him from falling. Dead silence reigns all around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tom?” Harry tries. His voice is uncertain and low, and he is drowned out by the humming ocean, but Harry has no doubt that Voldemort will hear it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, no answer comes, only the guards start croaking among themselves that he's completely crazy now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tom?!”  This time desperation speaks for his actions. Harry realizes he doesn't want to die. No. He first has to see the stars, feel the warmth of the fireplace, hug Sirius and say goodbye to him - only then they can kill him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he sees what they have prepared for him, he freezes. Cold drops of rain fall on the boy's feverish body, running down his clothes and making him shiver.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The coffin is simple - made of random boards and old nails already covered with rust. Perfectly sized for Harry's body size.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looks at the guards in horror. Douchebag pushes his wand painfully into the boy's larynx.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"In," he cents, and his companions chuckle as if there was something funny about this situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They laugh out loud and Harry goes crazy, not knowing what to make of it all. Is he supposed to cry? Maybe scream? Or just laugh?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sight of the coffin unlocks in Harry a strange will to survive,  awakens the flame of hope and strength to fight. So Harry is fighting. He breaks free, kicks, tries to hit every part of the guards' body within his range. When his hand finally breaks out of the grip and Harry takes a few steps to the side of the cliff, his leg tangles in the rock crevice as he falls flat, tearing the skin on his hands and smashing his knee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to howl in pain and frustration as strong hands lift him up and try to get him to his feet. Harry tries to get away at all costs, putting in all the strength he has left. He is completely unconcerned about being in a losing position, and his throat is filled with the sour taste of fear. He must do it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of his remaining energy is spent on one last move, but it ends up like the previous one - a humiliating fall. The guards give him some hard kicks for good measure; one of them spits saliva on the ground, saying something about the uselessness of freaks like him, Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because that's what Harry is - a freak. Sent to the worst place on earth by his own friends, enjoying conversations with his parents' murderer, a useless wizard without a wand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears trickle down Harry's pale face as the spell paralyzes him and another one levitates him into the coffin. He wants to scream, even scream helplessly as he rests on the soaked boards, but his mouth is gagged by a spell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last hope is Voldemort, to whom Harry is now praying like a deity, but no answer comes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lid is closed and darkness surrounds Harry. He only hears the bloody heartbeat counting down to death.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels the coffin with it levitating inside and is lowered to the bottom. It's quite a strange feeling to be buried alive. The earth slowly covers the wooden lid, Harry's breathing getting shallower with each layer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry lies still under the cursed spell and wants to laugh. Which is why, when the spell is graciously lifted, Harry bursts into maddening laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can already see these headlines: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harry Potter Buried Alive! How did he feel? An exclusive interview just before his death!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At one point, the laughter gives way to helpless sobbing, and Harry tries to get out one last time. He hits the coffin lid desperately, then tries to scrape the wood with his nails, but all he gains is splinters that painfully dig into the skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry knows that the air won't come in here forever, especially since the coffin is leaky and with each punch of the boy, more and more dirt is getting in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Darkness surrounds him. Terrible, heavy and sticky, it hugs every part of Harry's body and scares him so much that he starts to move with his whole body, trying to kick, punch and scream at the same time. But it doesn't help, and the dark's tentacles tighten on Harry even tighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air inside is hot and Harry chokes on the smell of fresh earth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tom!” He screams, not caring about the fact that he is wasting precious oxygen. ”Tom! Tom, Tom, Tom!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And suddenly he can breathe freely. He is sitting under a wide tree in the rose garden he knows so well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tom?” he asks. “What the hell was that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Harry feels like vomiting at the mere mention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One of your many hallucinations, I presume.” Voldemort's voice comes from behind Harry. The boy turns to the man who is leaning against the railing of a small but rich looking cabin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ I won't say that I like it because I don't like it. Not at all,” Tom emphasizes, and walks over to Harry, sitting close to him, for which he is grateful. He fucking needs proof that he's alive. The other person's warmth is strange to cheer him up and keep him from thinking about what happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That continuous ‘Tom, Tom, Tom!’ I am not a dog at your service. I have been busy. Very busy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But you did help me anyway," Harry remarks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don't make me regret it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry eloquently rolls his eyes, somewhere subconsciously knowing that Tom is unable to regret it. It may be naïve, but lately Harry has been starting to see the other side of Voldemort more and more often - small, warm smiles, and above all, how much he helps Harry, talks and just helps to stay sane. He's not sure if this isn't another game, but at this point he just needs to believe it or he'd really go crazy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So why did you ruin my life?”  Harry finally asks, remembering perfectly well that it was Voldemort who killed the Dursleys. He wants to break the strange silence that has come between them, but at the same time is shocked by recent events and needs something to distract his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm? You ask why I killed those worthless Muggles who humiliated and starved you?” There is nothing but contempt in Tom's voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're answering the question with a question again..." says Harry. The slowly terrifying events that happened in Azkaban begins to blur and Harry feels free from the burden of memories.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Harry," he says calmly, looking into the boy's eyes. His expression suggests he will finally answer Harry's question, but the narrow lips curve into a mocking smile and all he says is another biting remark. “Haven't you learned yet? Stop being such a naive idiot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not..." Harry indignats, but Voldemort doesn't let him finish, just waves his hand as if all Harry could say was just bullshit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then behave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What bit you today?” Harry asks, surprised by Tom's extraordinary stubbornness. “As if a wasp stung you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Maybe it was it," his voice lowers dangerously and Voldemort brings his face closer to Harry's, pinning him down with a cold stare, "that some kid kept calling me when I had an important meeting?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then you should have left me there!” Harry shouts, all eyes returning in a mighty wave. “You know what it's like to be buried alive? Lying there with the certainty that you will suffocate, and your only hope of rescue is a sociopathic killer?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort sighs theatrically, then spreads his arms in an inviting gesture.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Come here," he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stares at Voldemort for a moment, sincerely doubting his intelligence, but at one point his eyes tear up and he just cuddles up against the hard body, sinking his nose in the dark material of Tom's robe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lost in emotion, he fails to notice Voldemort's coldly satisfied smile as he gently pats his back, whispering warm but false words of comfort.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. When the roses finally don't reek of blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span><em>"That's weirdly nice,"</em> Harry thinks, tucking his face into the hollow of Voldemort's arm. The material is delicate and soft, and the man's body radiates pleasant warmth. The temperature and the lively, beating heart that pounds hollowly in Harry's ears prove that Tom Riddle is not a monster - just a flesh-and-blood man who is no different from the others. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead.” While the words might suggest that Voldemort is rebuking Harry, the tone he uses is lined with plain human amusement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sniffs. He no longer cares about the fact that he had a little mental breakdown next to Tom; not anymore. What matters now is the heat of the other body and the relief it brings, how real it seems. The only real thing Harry can be sure that is not an illusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My head should be that one place where thoughts should be free, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not when you're talking to the legilimentist.” Tom strokes Harry's back, making gentle circles with his hand. The boy sighs, losing himself to the addictive sense of security, ignoring Tom's retort and deciding not to answer it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leaves rustle around and Harry slowly lulls him to sleep with their monotonous sound. The eyelids become heavy and close against the boy's will. Harry still inhales Voldemort's scent, sharp as potion herbs and the dust that collects on old, unread books.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wakes up as the sun goes down below the horizon, spilling red light and making the valley look like it's on fire. With a sigh, he stretches as the fluffy blanket falls off his shoulders. Harry frowns. Voldemort wrapped a blanket around him while he was asleep? This thought kindles a pleasant warmth in the boy's body. He has forgotten that people can care for each other. This simple act makes Harry smile warmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks for Voldemort, but can't find him among the rose and sunflower flowers. He folds the blanket gently and sets it on the ground just below the tree. He can't help himself and sinks his fingers into the soft fabric with a slight smile on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tears a blade of grass off his cheek that had stuck to him while he was asleep and glances over at the house, wondering where Tom might be. It is a two-story building made of red brick with huge black doors. It is adorned with a soaring roof and balconies whose railings are covered with ivy, slowly changing its colors to autumn’s ones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry peers uncertainly through the soaring windows inside. But there is only darkness inside. Only the fading sunlight reflects off the windows. Realizing that it won't do any good, he looks towards the door. He swallows and climbs the three steps, finally standing, with his heart pounding, in front of a door with a snake's gaping maw.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He already raises his hand, but before he can knock, the door opens with astonishing speed, Voldemort glares at Harry for a second, then closes the door just as quickly with a thud, hiding the inside from the boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you get enough sleep?” he asks. He doesn't seem to be particularly bothered by Harry's answer, more interested in books, the entire pile of which levitates from the room above through the open window. They crash under the tree next to the blanket Harry has put down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ How does it even work?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ Hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"All of that," Harry waves his arms. "Sleeping here. Because I am sleeping there, in my real body?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But you know we're not really here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry makes a silly face, and Voldemort sighs and sits down to explain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This world in which we are now, although it is a perfect reflection of reality, to be true, is only a copy. We are here with our minds. That's why you can sleep here, while sleeping in the real world. You could say that that one was a  real dream, because although you are physically sleeping now, your mind is not resting as it should.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let’s say I got it all," Harry grins, and Riddle only sighs theatrically. ”What are you doing?” he asks after a while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm looking for information on the Dementors, of course," he replies, turning the page.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, I've seen it recently," Harry says, pointing at the drawing of a wide-mouthed dementor. "But in real life, this white light looks a little different, it's not that bright," he notes, recalling the gaping mouth and the flickering light that looked like it was losing all of its magical glow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you're telling me about it now?” Voldemort growls. However, anger is quickly replaced by a lust for knowledge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn't know it was anything important! I don't even know what it was exactly. Anyway, it happened just before I had... my last hallucination… you know…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nobody says anything for a moment; Voldemort stares expectantly at Harry, and Harry is stubbornly silent, his eyes averted from the bloody irises pinning gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally surrenders, exhaling loudly through chapped lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do the books say about it? What now?” he replies to Voldemort's questioning gaze, “If I know what exactly it is, maybe I will associate the facts and remember something worth your attention.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you heard the story of how the dementors were created?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Em…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What do they teach you in the history of magic then?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The goblin wars?” The boy says shyly, crouching internally under Voldemort's sharp gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that's why this idiotic education system needs to be changed…” he mumbles under his breath. "You still say Dumbledore is fit to be Hogwarts headmaster? Anyway it’s not imprtant now” he says, before Harry can speak and defend Dumbledore. But Harry realizes that he didn't mean to. An outside observer would laugh at the state of education at Hogwarts - segregation into good and inferior, the headmaster favoring Gryffindors and Snape doing the same for Slytherins, not learning Latin, though that's the basics of spells, or incompetent teachers who are long dead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort pulls out of his thoughts, as he begins to tell the story of the appearance of dementors on the island.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A mighty wizard, his name was Ekrizdis, built a fortress on the island and hid everything from the prying eyes of both Muggles and other wizards. It is known that he was involved in dark magic, really dark. I am able to assume that I am far away from his research.” Voldemort laughs bitterly, as if his goal is to defeat this wizard. "Anyway, there are tales that he lured sailors or other Muggles to the island to torture and experiment with them. He was a real genius, I have some of his books, Harry, and his discoveries and inventions... it's amazing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry notices that Voldemort's eyes are glowing with a dangerous glow as he tells of the sorcerer's terrifyingly bloody deeds; it's almost as if he is talking about his idol.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But life is not eternal, Ekrizdis did not venture into the areas of dark magic that I studied... Maybe he was wiser and knew that it was not a good solution?It  doesn’t really matter. Ekrizdis died, and the spell hiding the island with Azkaban no longer worked. The Wizarding World has finally heard of the horrors that were going on there. And the Ministry of Magic workers who explored the island were the first to see the dementors. Creatures that cannot be killed. The later Minister of Magic, Damocles Rowle, proposed to create a prison for wizards in Azkaban. You see, Harry, the cowardly wizards were terribly afraid of the dementors, and by providing the dementors with steady food in the form of prisoners, it was a guarantee that they stayed on the island and didn't disperse around the world.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So they send wizards as victims to keep the rest safe?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort laughs darkly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The world is cruel, dear Harry," he says, and holds up the book in which they had just studied the dementor's drawing. "These are the notes of Ekrizdis himself, I ripped them out from under Dumbledore's own nose... I wonder if this fool knows how much he made my task easier?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What's in it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Everything," he replies. "But it's absolutely all about Dementors, my Harry."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All?” Harry asks in a choked voice. “So how to kill them too?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. It's even quite simple... You see, my brave little wizard, the dementors were once people who became monsters by Ekrizdis' experiments, and that white light inside... is their primal, immortal soul.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Harry whispers for lack of a better idea for his reaction. “Dementors are humans?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They used to be, but they are no longer. They lived for hundreds of years, their humanity has been devoured by dark rituals. In addition, only the primitives have souls. Those dementors who are born out of others already exist have no soul at all…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That's why I need detailed information. Where did you see the primal dementor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He was standing in front of my cell," Harry says, reluctantly remembering what happened.”When I think about it, it looked as if he was waiting for me to come to the door?“ The boy's body is overcomed by chills when he thinks about the possible goals of the dementor. Did the monster want to give him a kiss even without the Minister of Magic's orders? “He walked over to me and revealed his hood, then opened his mouth. In fact... if he wanted to show it to me, I mean, to show his soul…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Interesting," only says Voldemort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is ..." Harry is a little afraid to ask that question aloud, but draws on the last bit of his Gryffindor courage because he knows he can’t stand to be</span>
  <em>
    <span> there </span>
  </em>
  <span>any longer. ”Is there any way I can stay here forever?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to sleep forever?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nods. He'd rather be here than meet that dementor again, feel that fear again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't want to go back there, really, I'll go mental, Tom."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Voldemort gets up and goes to the fragrant roses, breaks one off and gives it to Harry with a crooked smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll think about it," he promises. "Now go back to sleep, my little wizard," he whispers softly.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. A smoldering spark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This is probably the first time that Hermione has not been in the same compartment with Ron and Harry on the Hogwarts train. She would give a lot for a properly functioning time-turner. She would then unscrew the whole mess that had been built up. Smelly, sticky and full of bugs. Sometimes she feels like she is acting more mature than some serious adults who, although being grown up and wise, are doing nothing to help her best friend - nothing at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione extended her duties as the newly elected prefect for as long as possible - checking individual compartments with exaggerated accuracy, walking slowly and calmly, often pausing to talk to prefects from other houses, discussing her function and the coming OWLs year. Everyone deftly avoided the subject of Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Hermione thinks,</span>
  <em>
    <span> because if any of them were to offend Harry, I'd have set Crookshanks on them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The train stops at the station with a loud whistle, and a black mass of students chatting nonsense with long-unseen friends spills out like a tsunami wave. Hermione walks among them, clutching the book she was afraid to leave in the trunk to her chest. Who knows whose hands it could fall into? It is far too precious  for Hermione to lose it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She chooses a free carriage, lays the book on her lap and looks at the starry sky, repeating in his mind the constellations that will be useful for OWLs in astronomy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the carriage bends slightly, Hermione looks up at her newcomer companion, shaking her head to get rid of the pain in her neck from staring at the sky for too long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were attacked by a large herd of bullying wrackspurts, I can see,” the newcomer says in a sleepy voice. She speaks softly, barely opening her pale mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Hermione searches her mind, trying to find a definition for this strange word. “Whatever.” She finally gives up and sighs, resting chin on her hand, giving up the conversation and looking at the tree line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, the carriage slowly moves away, the wheels push the stones into the ground wet from the rain, making a characteristic sound while bogging in mud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl sitting opposite Hermione shrugs and pulls a garishly colored magazine from her leather bag, which she begins to read after a while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione, out of widespread boredom (she would reread the book currently on her lap, but is too afraid that the inside would reveal that she had swapped the cover to hide the real title of the book) glances at the peculiar blonde, whose face is covered with a flickering photo of Harry from the process printed on the cover of the magazine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I borrow it for a minute?”She asks intrigued, pointing to the newspaper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sure," the girl says in a sleepy voice as she assembles the magazine to be handed over to Hermione.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thanks," Hermione replies quickly, not paying attention to the strange girl, too busy reading the article. With each sentence, her heart beats faster and faster, her eyes blink, unable to believe that the author of the text defends Harry and with strong words exposes the ignorance of the Ministry of Magic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she hurriedly follows the text with her eyes, a plan begins to form in her mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you like it?” A sleepy voice breaks Hermione out of her thoughts. She furrows her brows as she tries to focus her thoughts on the question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sorry," he says, reflecting quickly. “I'm just surprised that someone, let alone any magazine, believes in Harry and knows that the Ministry of Magic has violated at least ten laws by this absurd sentence, not to mention human rights…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me and my daddy, we always knew Fudge and the Ministry were corrupt. You knew Minister Fudge had at his service an army of fire...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait a minute. You are...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Luna Lovegood," she replies with a soft smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That explains a lot," Hermione mutters under her breath. "Does your father really believe in Harry?"  she adds louder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like really-really?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like really-really.” Hermione rolls her eyes slightly irritated by her interlocutor's childishness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then yes. We both believe in him, and the Ministry of Magic is still hiding the fact that You-Know-Who is back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where does this belief come from?” Hermione asks, she can't believe that someone from the outside, not a member Order of the Phoenix, has managed to see through the ministry's operations.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There are plenty of wrackspurts around him, but the bad, twisted ones that oppress you, gnawing at the most important emotions. And they are very poisonous,” she adds in a serious tone and with a dangerous twinkle in his eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Suuuure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Daddy even wanted to lend him a necklace that works like a defensive talisman” Luna holds up a rope with colorful caps strung on it “but he was laughed at.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's sad," Hermione says out of sheer sympathy, because the whole story portrays Mr. Lovegood as a madman who has spent too much time on the sun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But don't worry! The necklace was not wasted, because daddy gave it to a poor witch…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, forgive me for interrupting you, but would you find a moment for me this week?” Hermione's outline of her plan is finally starting to look clear in her head. His fingers tighten on the book, its key to Harry's release. With Luna's help, she should get even better. If all goes well, of course. With that thought, she has doubts again, but Hermione ignores the negative thoughts, knowing she needs to focus on her goal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will be happy to help you!” Luna smiles warmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But... I didn't say anything about needing help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nargles gossip about it all the time.” She waves her hand as if it wasn't an important issue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this point, the carriage stops and a petite blonde jumps out of it, smearing mud on her boots and hem. She turns around and waves vigorously to Hermione.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad we became friends," she says, and leaves Hermione stunned, staring at Luna as she leaps away. After a while, however, surprise is replaced by a tender smile and Hermione also heads towards the illuminated castle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The welcome feast is as usual full of loud conversations and amazing smells. Hermione pecks a roast with sweet potatoes in peace, listening to the Gryffindors talk excitedly about their holidays.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right?” Neville asks her. Hermione looks up from her plate and sees the boy's honest and worried face. She swallows dry saliva.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is okay.” She smiles weakly and takes a sip of his pumpkin juice. Her gaze wanders involuntarily to Ron, who gobbles up tons of food and listens attentively to Dean. The thought lurks in the back of her head; she needs to talk to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ ...then go ahead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Hermione asks as she drifted away for a moment. “I wasn't listening carefully, would you please repeat?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said you can always talk to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione smiles warmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So... this, well... you can tell me everything."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl looks around to see if the Gryffindors are paying attention to her, too busy with themselves, and whispers to Neville:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to help me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it about Harry?” he answers in a conspiratorial whisper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That's so obvious?” She winces slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. After all, this is your best friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione involuntarily glances at Ron, who is laughing at Seamus' jokes, and after a while Dean has to pat him on the back because Ron starts choking on his food.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mine too," adds the boy with a shy smile and a blush on his chubby cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And not ours?” The twins ask, pushing into the seats next to Hermione so that she has each of the Weasleys on one side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could you bring yourself to a shade of culture and not eavesdrop on private conversations of others?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why do you keep having these conversations in public?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh! You must be so annoying?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Otherwise we wouldn't be so fabulous.” Fred winks at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But you don't have to worry, we'll come to your 'Let's save Harry' meeting," adds George.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The answer Hermione has on the tip of her tongue is interrupted by Dumbledore who starts his speech at the start of the school year.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Welcome dear students of mine!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blah, blah, blah,” Fred mutters steadily in her ear, and when the girl chills him with her eyes, he only smiles innocently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can't focus because of you," she hisses irritated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like you’ re gonna actually find out anything interesting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what about the new defense teacher? It is important!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you talking about that pink toad?” Fred points at a short woman dressed in the most hideous shades of pink in this world. Hermione winces involuntarily and tries to erase this image from her memory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Told you so” Fred's freckled face is made of a sly smirk, and Hermione is eager to wipe it off, so she hits him on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouch! For what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"For the disturbance," she says, teasing a little and turns her head to hide her smile, focusing on the boring speech of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmpf.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the feast passes peacefully except for the twins' banter. The exhausted Hermione exits the Great Hall, heading towards the Gryffindor common room. Luna says goodbye to her by waving her hand in an attempt to mimic the butterfly's wings. Hermione laughs and shakes her head, heavy on her heart, she turns to the feasting students because she knows exactly what awaits her now. Conversation with Ron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione would be a liar if she said she was not afraid of this conversation - a big and dirty liar. She really wants to convince Ron, and because she cares so much, her heart beats like a bell and her hands are sweating in cold sweat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swallows and screams in a sonorous voice:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First Years Gryffindors!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A herd of short kids gather at her feet, and Hermione leads them to the Fat Lady's portrait, explaining the most important principles of Hogwarts as accurately as possible and with all the details she remembers. He even recites them The Hogwarts Story, which ends with the bored expressions of the 11-year-olds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After presenting the house rules and discussing the point system, she falls on a soft armchair placed right in front of the fireplace and tilts his head back, absorbing the delicate warmth. Feels like she ran a marathon. At least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Children are so tiring," she groans inwardly. However, her relaxation does not last forever, because Ron walks through the hole from the painting. For a moment their eyes meet, but the boy quickly looks away and quickens his pace as he makes his way towards the stairs to the boys' dormitories.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” The girl jumps up from her chair, wanting to keep her friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron pauses, and Hermione pauses uncertainly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I wanted to talk," she says, trying to make her voice sound firm. He has to do it. Now or never.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do we have anything to talk about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione doesn't show how irritated by Ron's attitude is, so she just sighs as she tries to smother her raging emotions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," he says shortly, then adds softly, "Shall we sit down?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron seems torn but eventually gives in and they both sit on the couch. There is an embarrassing silence for a moment, until Ron interrupts it:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then what did you want to talk about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About Harry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I thought so," he admits, still seeming to feel awkward talking to Hermione. And Hermione shares the feeling to some extent, because it's weird talking to Ron after not doing it for so long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give me a chance, hm? We should talk about it, and you know it very well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know, I know," he mutters, not meeting her eyes. Hermione is relieved to see the chance that this conversation could go in the right direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You've known Harry since the first year, after all," she begins gently. “Could this little boy be able to kill someone with cold blood? You know him so well... like almost no one else. We were his best friends. And I think,” she takes a breath of air soaked with the smell of burnt wood, “that we owe him. We owe him the truth. That is why we must fight for him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron is silent, which Hermione takes as a good sign, so he continues:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least try to find out the truth with me. You know very well that Voldemort killed Ginny. What could a puny twelve-year-old boy do against a Dark Lord? Because certainly not defeat,” she ends bitterly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know that, but... It hurts so damn much, you know? Living with the knowledge that Ginny is not here anymore. And he...  he was the only one with a chance to do anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can guess," he says quietly, and gently squeezes Ron's hand to cheer him up. "It's terrible to lose a sister, but think about what Harry must be feeling there in Azkaban?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He confessed," Ron mutters, his throat tightening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Hermione sighs. "It all just overwhelmed him... And that's why I want to find out the truth, because Harry certainly didn't want his aunt and uncle to die such a horrible death. So we need to find out who had a goal in it... and who wants Harry to suffer this time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just like the old days, huh? Library and tedious searches?” Ron stands up, his blue eyes showing relief and reconciliation with fate, but also that spark of desire for adventure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione smiles broadly as she fights back tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a slightly different plan, possibly with fewer libraries than the standard... but yes. Just like the old days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Definitely McGonagall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Definitely not McGonagall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry turns on his side and props his head on his elbow to get a better look at Tom lying on his back watching the clouds. Both his arms are clasped behind his head, and a gentle breeze caresses the dark hair that falls over his high forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you even know what she looks like?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We were at Hogwarts together, everyone knew Head Girl Minnie.” Voldemort is not looking at Harry when he says this, so he doesn't see the startled expression on Harry's face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're kidding!” Harry leaps to a seat and looks down at Tom's calm face. “Minnie?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stand back, you’re blocking the sun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But Minnie?! I cannot imagine the Head of Gryffindor as a young girl... She will always be an old woman with a tight bun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“More like two braids,” says Tom. “The boys loved to pull on them... and invent more ambitious charms.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow!” Harry can't sit still because of emotions, so he makes weird moves, neither jumping on his knees nor trying to get up to back off at the last moment. “Ron will laugh when I’ll tell him. And imagine the face of Her... " Harry pauses, all his enthusiasm fading away. He moves away from Tom and lays down on the grass as close to him as possible. "Whatever," he says, staring at the sheep-fluffy clouds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If you say you see a herd of sheep, I'll offend your intelligence," Tom says, reading the boy's mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry laughs a soft, expressionless laugh, having the strange feeling that Tom is trying to comfort him. Of course, he doesn't comment on his thoughts, he pretends to be occupied by the clouds in the sky, but Harry just knows. And this knowledge ignites a nice, if slightly overwhelming feeling somewhere inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, I can still see the McGonagall bun," Harry replies. “Anyway, this face profile... this spectacle frame! Who else but her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dumbledore with his hair tied.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You exaggerated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And why is that?” Tom's voice is a soft murmur amid the dead silence of the artificial world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'll never get that picture out of my head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You might not have imagined it," says Tom with a slight hint of amusement in his voice, "then you wouldn't have that problem."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think I wanted to? It happened without me wanting it to happen,” he says, then adds, “like everything in my life. Everyone decides about it, but me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"After all... you confessed to the Wizengamot that you killed this piece of muggle shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It was," Harry searches for the right words, "adrenaline rashed action and... I wish I could take it back. I would do anything not to end up here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Harry really does. He would rather go to Hogwarts with the stigma of a madman, rot in boring Nurmengard, on Grimmauld Place, in some other cell... just somewhere where there would be no dementors and the smell of decaying fear they spread.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely everything?” Voldemort asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you referring to, Tom?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he wonders about the strange psychopath's motives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nothing, nothing," he says, but a gentle smile dances on his lips, or rather a sly smirk of a man whose plan has been carefully arranged in the head for years, finally taking on colors in reality.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yhym, sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on,” Tom says, amused. “Are you offended now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, not at all, I'm not angry. Seriously” he adds, seeing Voldemort's doubtful eyesight. You're so weird today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In what sense?” asks Tom. “Oh look, dementor.” He points his long, bony finger at a cloud that looks nothing like a dementor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't you even dare joke like that," Harry growls. He gets up and kicks Tom's ankle with the foot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can do absolutely everything,” he replies, rising from the grass. “After all this is my world.” And, choosing the most childish solution ever, he kicks Harry in the leg with all his might.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouch!” Harry shouts. "Fucking psycho..." he mumbles. Tom raises one eyebrow and Harry rolls his eyes in surrender. "You are strange in the sense that you are nic ... As if something good had happened out there in the real world," he says, referring to an earlier conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not yet, but it will happen soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It got so cold, don't you think?” Harry pretends to be freezing and rubs his shoulders, teeth barking, because good things for Voldemort cannot be good for the rest of the world and Harry knows it all too well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dementors, I told you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have to bully me like this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can come back to reality, I don't mind. At least I'll have time to finally work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"At your service," Tom says, and they just stare at each other for a moment, then Harry looks away. He sits down on the grass and lies down again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That one is an elephant.” He indicates a circular cloud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Definitely not an elephant," Tom says, lying down next to him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>